AN: OMG! Yes, I'm actually, get this, i'm actually ADDING A CHAPTER! Wow. This is a moment to remember.

Wally lay on the cold, hard ground, and thought. Not about anything in general. Just a little bit of everything, and a little bit of nothing at the same time. The report card lay on his made bed, which Wally refused to lay on purely for principle. It was fake. Everything in his house, no, scratch that, his life was fake. Do to Abby's 'tutoring', he had raised his grades up to Cs and higher, but still his dad was disappointed. Angrily disappointed. Ok, the metal stick from that fly swatter had stung 'slightly', or at least that's what Wally told himself. In truth, the skin on his arms was bruised and scared do to the injuries he had recieved from his father. But Wally could handle it. He'd handled worse, right? He fought in school, and in the kids next door.

But why did the abuse from his dad hurt so much more?

"Because," Wally said outloud to himself, "You're supposed to trust you dad. He's supposed to teach you how to be a man. Protect you, and teach you how to protect yourself. Someone," Wally said angrily, "You're supposed to be proud to give father's day gifts to."

Every since starting elementary school, Wally had been forced, as well as all the other kids, to make father's day cards and various gifts.

And every year, Wally made the ceremonious journey to the dumpster to dispose of his.

But he was tired of it. Tired of the lying. The crying. The internal pain. He wanted to tell someone. But who could he tell. Not Numbuh 1. He had too much on his mind already.

Maybe Numbuh 2? But, no. He couldn't take anything seriously.

Numbuh 3 could never know. She was too innocent and naive. He didn't want to expose her to the horrors of the real world.

Maybe he could tell Numbuh 5 . . . but that too wouldn't work. She wouldn't believe him.

How could any one believe him?

And anyway, Wally didn't want to throw his burden onto their shoulders. Even if they did believe him, which he highly doubted, they couldn't do anything. What could they do? Call the police? Mr. Beatles was a highly admired citizen to the rest of the world. He treated his on highly out of the house. He worked hard. Ok, so he had a little 'drinking problem'. No big, right?

Anger swelled in Wally. Anger at himself. It was his fault. He wasn't good enough. If he was perfect, his dad would love him. Kuki was perfect. Her parents loved her. If he was more like her, then maybe. . .

Then a horrible thought entered Wally's head.

'Krissi was perfect'.

Tears filled Wally's eyes, tears he usually felt strongest on 'bring your daughter to work day'. Because it wasn't the girls that made him want to stay home so bad.

It was the memories that flooded his mind.