Disclaimer: Id on town On ET re eh ill. It's true!

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Britney sat miserably in her bedroom. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she buried her head in the pillow. She couldn't help crying loudly; she really loved it in Tree Hill.

Downstairs, Whitey could hear his niece sobbing. He felt almost guilty for making her cry. "It's not my fault" He told himself. "She didn't have the right to go behind my back and do that sort of thing. Tree Hill was supposed to be a new beginning for her." Whitey got up out of his chair and began to pace across the floor. "Maybe I should give her another chance."

The old coach stopped and looked at the pictures on the shelf. The one that caught his eye was one of his older sister Mary-Anne (Britney's mother), her husband Jake, Britney at four years old and her baby brother Eric. Looking at his sister's face, he felt a tear creep down his face.

Mary-Anne and him had been very close as children even as young adults. But when Mary-Anne moved away from Tree Hill, they lost touch with each other, until the day when he got a call from her saying that she needed help. At the time, she wouldn't tell him why but Whitey could sense that there was something very wrong.

So as soon as he could he went out to California and searched for his sister. In fear of some unknown factor, she refused to tell him her exact address. All he knew was that she lived in a ratty downtown apartment. Whitey searched through phonebooks in vain. He went through the downtown area asking people on the streets if they knew a certain Mary-Anne Solomon.

Finally as dusk swept over LA and Whitey was about to give up, he came across a young man probably, twenty-six or so, who asked him what or who was looking for. Whitey explained that he was looking for his sister Mary-Anne Solomon and it just so happened that the man knew her.

After finding out where she lived, Whitey hopped in his car and went to look for her. As he was driving he began to ask himself how the young man knew his sister. When he saw Mary-Anne for the first time in 15 years, he knew how.

Mary-Anne was standing on a corner under a flickering street lamp. The sun had long since set and stars began to fill moonless sky. Mary-Anne held a half smoked cigarette in one hand and readjusted her bra with the other. Whitey almost collapsed when he got a glimpse of her.

Her white, see-through slip was barely long enough to cover her butt. Long legs, all tanned with an array of tattoos, slumped out of her skirt like a baby deer's and ended at a pair of knee-high leather boots making her about 3" taller. She wore a cut-up shirt that was black with rhinestones around the sleeves. The shirt was cut so that the front was gapped between her shoulders and swooped to show off a max of cleavage. The shirt was ripped so that it ended a couple inches under her breasts.

She brushed a shaky hand through her dark brown hair. Seeing a gang of men coming by, she whipped out a mirror and checked her makeup, then adjusted her breasts.

"How's it goin' boys?" she asked leaning towards them and bending so her chest was in their view. She brushed a long nailed finger against a guy's cheek. Smiling provocatively she said, "Lookin' for a good, cheap time."

"Yeah, maybe when pigs fly." The guys laughed as they took turns ridiculing her. "Go fuck yourself, whore." The guy grinned and slapped her across the face.

The guys laughed, grabbing and feeling her as they passed. The last guy to pass her, took out a bill, shoved it between her breasts and chuckled. "Go home, ya fucker." As he left, he spat in her face and grabbed her butt.

Whitey was appalled by what he saw. He jumped out of his car and raced across the street. His sister looked at him with a sense of pleasure. Shocked and horrified by the look she was giving him, Whitey said, "What the hell are you looking at me like that for Mary-Anne?"

Mary-Anne's face, drained of all colour stared at him blankly before twisting in disgust. She stared at him and watched as the vision of her younger brother appeared in this man's face. "Brian?" she asked in a whisper.

Whitey nodded his head. Mary-Anne wrapped her arms around him and threw her cigarette to the ground. "I can't believe you came. Oh, I've been waiting for you."

Whitey patted her back awkwardly as she locked her arms around him. When she let go, she looked happily into his disapproving eyes. Knowing his thoughts, she quickly began to defend herself feeling largely offended.

"I gotta make a livin' for ma family, ya know. God dam well knows that ma bitchin' husband ain't gonna help me none. You oughtta jus' get outta here." She growled. "Can't believe I thought you be ready ta help me. Go home Brian!"

Whitey looked at her sympathetically. "I don't need your pity." She said seeing the look in his eyes. "I'm fine—

"I'm not here to judge you Mary. I want to help." Whitey saw tears creep to his sisters held but she choked them back.

"Annie." Came a deep voice from behind her. Mary-Anne looked back and forced a smile.

Mary-Anne leaned towards him, rubbing her chest against his. "I thought you was outta town this week. You home early, Scar?"

Whitey rolled his eyes with hatred at him. Scar looked at Whitey disgustedly as her wrapped his big arm around Mary-Anne and held her breast in a big dirty hand. "Who tha fuck is this?" He asked Mary-Anne.

She looked at him threateningly. "I don't know." Scar offered to make him go away but Whitey walked off to his car.

"Less go Annie. We got lossa catchin' up ta do." Scar said with a harmful chuckle. Mary-Anne looked back to where Whitey sat in his car. She mouthed an apology to him and told him that she'd meet him back there later. She didn't know how long she'd be. Scar was a greedy, aggressive man.

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Scar ripped her clothing off and threw her on the concrete floor. "Now let's have some fun." He said with his evil laugh. Scar slapped her and pushed her around. He liked it rough. When he stopped for a drink, Mary-Anne began to dress herself when he said.

"What tha fuck do ya think yar doin' bitch!" Scar walked over to her and shoved her to the ground. He bent to his knees and pushed his fist in between her breasts, holding her to the ground. Mary-Anne squirmed as his knuckles pressured her chest. Struggling for breath, she lay flat and stared up at him.

"Yarn't gettin' away like that ya bitch. I still gots two hours 'for Virginia gets home. And 'cause youra tryin' to leave I ain't gonna pay ya." He said and slapped her across the face.

Mary-Anne let out a silent sob, knowing that she'd go through the same ordeal at home, unless Jake had already used it all on Britney. She just prayed that he wouldn't.

She watched Scar rub beads of sweat of his forehead and chug down the bottle of beer. He walked towards her smirking menacingly. He cracked the bottle on the wall and threw it beside Mary-Anne's head.

"Ya ready?" He asked straddling her. He put his hands on her sides and saw his chubby fingers dig in further than usual. "Ya getting' fat bitch!" he slapped her again. Grabbing her breasts, he contented himself. "At least these ah gettin' bigga too."

Five minutes before Scar wife was to be home, he threw her aside as though he was finally bored and told her to leave. She dressed quickly and went to Scar. Holding her hand out, she asked, "Where's ma money?"

"I told ya I ain't payin' ya!"

Mary-Anne stood firmly. "Where is ma money?"

"Fuck you. I ain't payin' ya whore!"

"Looka here Scar," she said angrily. "Yous not gonna rape me far two hours and sen me home with nothin'!"

Scar growled and took his wallet from the table. Pulling out a couple bills he shoved them down her shirt. "Get lost 'fore Virginia find ya."

As Mary-Anne opened the door, Scar called to her. "Zat ma kid you got in there?" he asked looking at her fat tummy. "If it is, ya betta keep that shit away from me."

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Whitey sat in his car, waiting at the corner for what felt and was hours. When he saw Mary-Anne walking towards the street lamp, he got out of his car and offered her a ride.

"Nah." she said. "Jus' walk with me." Whitey offered her his coat and she draped it over her shoulders.

"So what is it that you need help with?" Whitey asked gently, trying not to disturb her.

Mary-Anne sighed. "Well," she stopped, not sure of how to speak her needs. "I'm… worried about Britney and Eric. You see… Jake's not a very good father. In fact, he's a horrible father and I don't want Britney or Eric or even Casey to grow up with him."

Whitey was confused. "Casey?" Mary-Anne held her hand to her tummy, looked at it and smiled at her brother. "Is it… she Jake's?"

Mary-Anne shook her head. She said that she would tell him she was his. She had already done that with Eric. They walked in silence until they got to Mary-Anne's apartment. They stopped and stood there in the blazing wind, waiting for Mary-Anne to spit out her words.

"Brian… I have a huge favor to ask you…" Mary-Anne let a tear roll down her cheek before she continued. "Can you… would you… take Britney and Eric away? I don't want them to live here… with him."

Whitey didn't know what to say and before he could open his mouth, Mary-Anne began talking again. "And, when she comes… could you take Casey too. She should be born in May. Oh Brian, please. I've asked for anything from you."

Whitey didn't know what to say. He wasn't ready to take care of two kids. A six-year-old, a three-year-old and a newborn. "I don't think I'm ready for this."

Mary-Anne had begun sobbing. "Please Brian, please! My kids don't deserve to grow up like this. I don't want Britney and Casey to grow up like me. I don't want Eric to grow up to be in a gang or like his father, an abusive, drunk pile of nothing. Please Brian."

Whitey couldn't say anything and when Mary-Anne saw this she ran away crying. "I don't know why I thought you'd help me. I hate you Brian, I hate you!"

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Whitey felt horrible as he looked back. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. "If only I had done that for her," he said sorrowfully. "They'd still be around."

When the kids were growing up, they were led into a life of drugs and alcohol, of sex and abuse. Their father and other men constantly abused both Britney and Casey in every way they could. Both girls went into prostitution to help pay for their family. Eric, beaten by his father, joined in on drugs and sex when he was merely 11. He impregnated a 16-year-old girl when he was 13. By 15, he was father to four kids, maybe more, all with different girls.

And through all the years, the three kids struggled. A few years before Britney came to Tree Hill, Eric got in a fight with a man who was had killed Casey. He had slit her throat as she waited on the corner. The man was more than twice his size and carried a knife. Eric was killed for trying to defend his sister.

Then there was only Britney left. Mary-Anne had begged him to take Britney. She had already sent her away to Alabama, to live with their mother and father, but Britney hated it. So two years later, she moved to Tree Hill and loved it there.

"How can I make her leave?" he asked himself. Whitey sat down in his chair and rubbed his hand on his brow. In the back of his head, he could hear Mary-Anne speaking to him. 'Please don't make her go back, Brian, please.'

Whitey sighed as he stood up. "Mary-Anne?" he asked, looking behind him. No one was there, but he heard her, still begging him to keep her. 'Where else will she go?'

Nodding his head in agreement with his sister, Whitey made his way to the stairs. Looking up, he yelled. "Britney!"

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Okay. Well I know it's been like a century since I wrote but I hope you liked it!

Please review!

Let it be.

The Beatles