She had run out of money. Again. You slapped her. She gasped and shrieked at you. All you could do was stand there, fists clenched at your sides. The four brothers rushed out to see what had happened, worried about your safety.

"GET OUT!" you yelled in the loudest voice you could muster.

She ran off, holding the cheek you had slapped. Before any of the brothers could manage to say anything, you were inside the house. Running up the stairs, you ripped open Alfred's door, only to slam it again. Flopping on the messy sheets, you huddled into the fetal position, crying.

You heard a commotion of feet, going in all directions, to their appropriated rooms. Arthur had to create a story of something reasonable to Peter, so he could go back to sleep. Alfred cautiously opened the door, making you flinch in the process.

The mahogany door was gently closed again. A few seconds passed before a weight was pressed down near you, a hand stroking your back. You crawled into his arms, being held tightly.

"She wanted more money," you choked out.

"That…thing, doesn't care about you, _. You can't let get into your head, babe."

"Al *hic* I can't. Sh-she just ruined me a long time ago. I told you what happened."

All he could was nod, trying not to mention what had happened. One of your mom's "friends" had raped you. He had come over to do drugs with your mother, but that thing had passed out. Her "friend" took the opportunity to take the most important thing to you.

You called the police after he passed out as well. Your "mother" had somehow escaped, leaving you alone with the idiot. The man was taken to trial, and had been the killer of twelve other people. Arthur had offered for you to stay with them, for your safety. You accepted, knowing he had deep connections.

Tears continued to fall from your bloodshot eyes. That thing was nothing to you anymore. That thing ruined everything you had. That thing was what your mother was.

Alfred comforted you late into the night, finally falling asleep at some point.

~! #$%^&*()_+_()*&^%$# !~

Beep beep beep!

The loud alarm aroused you both, reminding you of school that morning. Alfred's free hand lazily slapped off the incessant noise, earning a groan from both of you. You buried your head into his chest, trying to postpone the inevitable.

"C'mon, morning, seriously?" Alfred said to nobody in particular.

"Yep," you replied with a large yawn.

Soon enough, both of you were dressed and at the bus stop. The large yellow van filled with teenagers arrived to welcome another horrible day. Alfred held your hand as you both stepped onto the yellow "monster." Many jerks just pointed and laughed, while the popular girls gossiped about the two of you.

The truth was that you and Alfred had known each other since kindergarten, becoming instant friends. There was no sense of awkwardness between the two of you. The two of you were open about everything, literally everything, to each other. Even your deepest secrets.

~! #$%^&*()_+_()*&^%$# !~

The day went exactly as you thought it would. Gossip, gossip, and more gossip. Many people had theories as to what happened to last night. Several of the kids happened to live in your neighborhood and heard the yelling you produced. You almost punched the mean girl, Elizaveta.

You closed the door, after letting Alfred inside. A sigh was earned from both of you, setting your backpacks down on the table. Soon, cold lemonade was served, homework about to be started on. Alfred turned up some music, but a small argument aroused.

"Beyonce is not real music!" you yelled over the loud beat.

"Heck yes it is! That is real, amazing music!' Alfred yelled, spinning you around.

"Nope!" you said, breaking away from the spin.

You made a few clicks, and Three Days Grace was playing. The song that was playing was The Animal I Have Become, one of your favorites. Head-banging was soon commenced, and even Alfred was having in on it.

"Now this is good music right?" you screamed over the melody.

"Okay fine it is!" he yelled back, grabbing your hands, and spinning you around.

Both of you were laughing and singing, when Peter walked in. Neither of you took notice of his presence, angering him. Peter slammed the door, making you both almost falling over.

"Turn that crap off!" Peter yelled over the new song that was playing.

"No!" both of you yelled back, now screaming the lyrics to Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.

"…sigh," Peter mumbled.

Peter walked over to the computer, typed a few things, and Call Me Maybe turned on. A scream erupted from both of your lips. That song was despised by all in this house.

"I SURRENDER!" Alfred and you yelled in unison.

"I win!" Peter yelled, turning off the music.

After snacks were devoured, homework was begun. You ended up helping both of them, knowing exactly what to do. Peter was doing a study on The Tale of Sleepy Hollow, while Alfred needed help on some Edgar Allen Poe poems. After Peter was finished, he ran upstairs to him room to do who-knows-what.

"Hey Alfred?" you asked out of the blue.

"Hey what, _?"

"Do you think…" you bit your lip and trailed off.

"What? Don't be afraid to ask, babe."

"I could live with you?" you blurted out, all in one breath.

"Well, I don't see why not. I mean you practically do anyway!" he said with a laugh.

You hugged him tightly, kissing his left cheek. That second, by pure chance, Peter walked down the stairs and Arthur came in through the door.

"Ew that's disgusting!" Peter yelled, dashing into the kitchen.

"And what, may I ask, was that about?" Arthur inquired, setting his things down.

Alfred looked into your (eye color) eyes, then into Arthur's emerald ones, and explained the small conversation. Arthur complied with the decision, as he knew Dylan and Allistor would. They had an unused guest room that now would become your own room. He agreed to take you back to your home to collect your things. All of you jumped into the car, and drove over to the rundown little cottage.

You skipped happily into the doorway, grabbing your things. Going around the house, you gathered the many things you had collected. Your room was practically empty after the things had been thrown into an old box and suitcase.

The wardrobe was also emptied, as well as a cabinet in the bathroom. Half of the things in the small house were now gone, packed away to start a new life. You had been very cautious to be silent, not wanting to draw attention. Arthur had been instructed to drive around the nearest neighborhoods for good measure.

Just as you had finished grabbing your items, you looked in the mirror. You smoothed down your frizzy (hair color) hair, and tugged on your (favorite colored) shirt. After one last look around, you texted Alfred, grabbed the box and suitcase, and turned out the door.

This was a new life.

"Snapping turtle jumps rope, antique trumpet, I'm choking!"