Now, it's time for you to meet me! I'm Mikayla, the author of this story. So, yeah... That's me... Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you what the song was for last chapter! Well, since it's based off of the song, it's Miss Independent, by Kelly Clarkson.

Canada. He's got a strange aura about him. I didn't know what it was, but something seems so off-handishly nice. I mean, what kind of person lets a total stranger into his house and tells them that they haven't loved the right way?

Rapists. Creepy rapists. That's who. Look at me, I'm the full package! I've got everything except long legs(Why couldn't you bless me with long legs, God? Why?). No wonder people want to rape me! I'm pretty sexy...

But then again(Now the sane part of me is talking), Matthew's probably just a nice person who doesn't want to do anything indecent. And if he did, wouldn't he look more, y'now, creepy?

I looked over at Matthew with uncertainty. He didn't look weird. Well, except when he talked about those damned maple trees. Now that was weird.

"Hey, Mattie," I said with a scowl and a gruff glare. "Where, exactly, do you live?" Mat just smiled and looked at me thoughtfully. "Just down the road," he stated happily. I was just about to reach my boiling point and that stupid laidback tone was not helping it. At all.

"You fucking said that thirty fucking minutes ago!" I shrieked, squeezing my eyes shut. "Now, when the hell are we going to get to this so-called house of yours?" Canada smirked,"Right now."

My jaw instantly dropped as I gaped up at the three story mansion(and yes, I'm saying mansion brcause that's literally what it was). It was gorgeous! I mean, besides the flowers arranged to spell out 'sugar maple', the place was perfect.

It was painted a vibrant peach color, and it had miniature turrets, each topped with a slightly off center weathervane. "Where the..." I stuttered. "How the... What the..." Canada said, blushing slightly,"I know that it's not much, but it's home."

Without another glance or word, he gently pulled me towards the door by my arm. I felt the need to protest, but I didn't bother. I'd been protesting all day. As we stepped inside with just a soft push on the door, I asked curiously,"Why do you keep your door unlocked? I mean, what if there was a robber?"

"My door is unlocked because in Canada," he winked. "The crime rate is extremely low. That and I never get visitors except for my brother." I frowned,"Lyuboy..."

I looked around at the bare seemed way too dull for a guy like Matthew. When I thought of Matt, colors like red, green, or even violet jumped out at me; but definately not this boring, gun metal, gray. And I noticed that he looked more solemn while in here, or at least not as cheerful as usual.

"C'mon," Canada waved me over. "I'll show you your room." I stared at him blankly and extended my arms. "I don't feel like walking anymore," I said dreamily. "Carry me." Matt chuckled for a moment, then realized I wasn't joking, and gave me an are-you-serious kind of questioning look. I gave him an I'm-serious-as-a-heart-attack look.

He sighed as I jumped on his back easily. "Okay, I'm ready," I said happily. Matt started up the creaky, wooden stairs with me in tow, humming animatedly. Once up the stairs(I swear there were fifty, not that I was doing any work.), Matt showed me to this really dark room in the very back of the long hallway.

I jumped off of his back and stepped inside the room. It was completely white and looked as if no one had been in there for years. A lone bookshelf stood in the corner with only seven books filling it. In the center of the room was a full-sized bed with an old patchwork quilt covering it.

I stood still. I was fine with the emptiness, pff, that's how my room was in Russia. But this place was way to dark and dank for me. "Canada," I croaked, fearfully. "I can't stay in here, you bastard!" Matt walked in and stood next to me. "What's wrong with this place?" He asked me quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

"First of all, it's way too dark. Second of all, IT'S FREEZING!"

"But don't you need it to be dark to sleep?"

"Th-That's... I can't..."

"Why?"

"B-Because... I'm afraid o-of the dark... I was sleeping when they killed my mother..."

"Oh, I'm sorry I asked. It was none of my business."

"No. I'm glad I got it off my chest. I can kill you later. But as I was saying, I can't sleep in here."

"How about you take my room, and I'll sleep in here?"

"Sure. Night."

"Night."

I don't remember feeling better than that in a while. I usually don't talk to people about my mom. Maybe it was just Matt, and that strange aura. Or, I could've been way too tired to keep my guard up. All I knew was that if he told anyone about that, he'd die. I'd kill him after I kill myself.

That night, I fell asleep, okay? Well, the strange thing about that is, I don't have dreams. And if I do, I dream and being on the warfront, with a huge AK(I want one for Christmas.). But my dream was girly. Weird, right? I had a dream that I was a princess. And Mattie. Mattie was my prince. Dear, Lord...