I guess this is my edgy take on a Betas/Human AU? But yeah that being said there's some stuff that probably is a little confusing without a couple of extra details: so we all know the Betas are supposed to be a little older than canon, making Ed and Em older too. At this point they've moved out of the house, but they didn't take Amity with them (there's a reason but she isn't aware of it).
Amity is very bitter and angry, obviously. I tried my best to write this in that headspace.

Also, most of this was written before season 2 came out, before we were properly introduced to the Blight parents. I don't think it's a *huge* difference but please forgive any characterization errors if it is.

Hope you enjoy!


Amity wasn't sure exactly what it was that finally broke her.

Maybe it was the way her parents had decided to leave her alone for the week and didn't tell her about it until after they were already long gone; after she had called them both, for hours, with no answer, even calling her siblings (who also had no idea where their parents were); after she had panicked when she came home from school to find an empty house with no explanation - not that this was the first time they'd left her without warning, but they still usually left her a note or texted her during class or something.

Maybe it was the phone call she just had with her mother, the older woman pulling the same shit she always had. It was dark outside by the time she finally fucking answered the phone. Don't be so dramatic, dear. It's only a week, you'll be fine. ... Maybe if you'd gotten home on time (she had) you would know what was going on. We can't coddle you and your silly worries forever. (Her "silly worries" being that maybe someone had finally made good on those death threats that kept appearing at their house) ... Don't break anything while we're gone. Not even a "goodbye" or "be safe" or "I'm sorry for worrying you" because of course she wasn't.

Maybe it was that damned portrait above the fireplace that had taunted her since it was taken when she was six years old. The one that showed she was the only single in a family of pairs, that showed she didn't fit, that showed she was alone even within her own family. Hell, even her siblings didn't want her. Throughout their childhood, they promised they would take her with them when they moved out. And then they left and didn't bring her. You can come stay over whenever you want, was all they offered - a temporary place to stay when the home they abandoned her in became too unbearable. Temporary. Fuck them.

Maybe it was her own mind, who had been begging her for months to do something rebellious and drastic and dangerous after so many years of trying to be "perfect", trying to play it safe, trying not to upset her parents or give them another reason to be disappointed.

Maybe it was all of this.

She was so alone and angry and tired. She'd had enough. She was trembling as she paced around the house, tightly clenching her fists in her hair as tears cascaded down her face and she choked on the air that was so desperate to leave her lungs(it seemed like nothing wanted to be around her). Her body couldn't decide if it wanted to laugh or sob. Of course her parents didn't give a flying fuck about her, she was so stupid for wanting to think otherwise. She'd wasted her whole life trying to be "good" - her parents' version of it anyway - and she was sick of it. She was sick of all of it. She was sick of them, of this house, of this life they were forcing her to live, and she was sick of that goddamn portrait and everything it represented.

She'd finally stopped her aimless pacing when she reached the room with the photo, freezing in place and unable to tear her eyes away as a dangerous thought brewed in her mind and stuck.

She wasn't thinking when she lit the fire, piling on much, much more wood than necessary. Watching, waiting until the flames started to slither out past the brick. Past where it was "safe".

She wasn't thinking when she ripped the portrait off the wall and threw it into the angry flames, falling to her knees from the force of her throw.

She smiled as the flames effortlessly ate the canvas, the crackling of the frame was music to her ears.

She laughed as the ash and smoke started to rise, staining the "perfect" white walls. The flames rose, too. Soon they would be at the ceiling.

Even though the room was filling with smoke, she could finally breathe.


(she's fine dw)

Damn this seemed longer in Google Docs... I do have some more to this "AU" but it's far from finished and I wasn't really planning on finishing but if anyone's interested in reading more I'll do my best?

Comments are appreciated!