A/N: Hello to those who've stuck around to read what happens after chapter 1. Congratulations to all of you for being loyal. So as to repay those who are reading this fic, I'll be handing out Ratatosk and Marta party hats so that we can dig into the Ratatosk/Marta cake I baked myself along with the Ratatosk/Marta ice cream I bought from the grocery store. And later, we can go over to the Ratatosk/Marta theme park and ride the roller coaster and teacups. Woo hoo! Yeah!

…Yeah right. And now that I'm awake from my fantasy world of daydreaming, I can honestly tell you this much: 1) I'm inept in the art of cooking. So you can forget about those Ratatosk and Marta cupcakes or other baked goods of them. That's what we have moms for (unless it was my friend's mom, then you should bum off another friend's mom instead if you don't want to run the risk of food poisoning). 2) I'm a big chicken when it comes to riding a roller coaster. Sure, I can get on that one ride that raises you up very high then plummets you to the ground at an alarming rate. But for whatever reason, I can't stomach getting on any roller coaster without throwing a fit. So be prepared to get me on either one kicking and screaming cuz I don't go down without a fight. And 3) I'm truly touched that there are those willing to give this fic a try; that I wasn't lying about. So give yourselves a pat on the back because you've just made an author very happy with herself.

And I couldn't think of a better way to honor you guys then to write out the next chapter in dedication to you. So lets give a round of applause to the following that first reviewed this story:

Kalana Fox

Stormy341

CherrySamaXx3

HCRATL

So thank you again for the reviews. Now I'll humbly let you go to read the fic. Enjoy!

*On a side note, I decided to leave the image of what the school uniforms look like to the readers. The reason I say this is because sometimes we read a fic with a certain look in mind and then the author tries to describe a different look that'll either not work with our image of it or we simply can't image it from the description alone. Same with the mother. You can picture to look anyway you wish. That's the fun of imagination because you get to decide how certain things look. But if some of you want a suggestion for a school uniform in mind, I have a couple of pics on my Ratatosk x Marta x Emil album that you can look at if you want an example. I'll post the link on my profile. So go take I look at that or the other albums on my photobucket account.

Chapter 2: Her Day

Ever have those instances when you think you're dreaming, but then you're rudely awakened to the real world and come to see that you were actually in a form of hell that was sugar coated all this time?

Yeah, well I was. And his name is Ratatosk Castagnier a.k.a "The Jerk".

Ever since my failed attempt to enter the school on my first day and being saved by said jerk, I've been succumbed to relentless harassment and name-calling. Oh, and lets not forget the best part of it all (cue sarcastic speech): I have all my classes with him for the next NINE months and two weeks. Yes! Could I have asked for a better way to enjoy school life? (end sarcastic speech). Bleh.

…Ok. So maybe falling from a tree wasn't the best first impression (because it only works in manga, where the likelihood of the person who saves you ends up falling madly in love with you is much greater than my experience with him). And maybe fighting with the jerk, instead of thanking him and walking away from the matter, wasn't bound to get me anywhere, other than on his hit list. Or in this case, harassment list. But at least I didn't deserve the barrage of phrases like "your stupid" and "maybe your parents should have named you the Fire Cracker, small bean".

Who the heck is he calling a small bean? I most certainly am not small. I'm just shorter than most people. That's all.

Hmph.

I still remember the way he laughed it up in my face about how I couldn't reach the top of the board to write out the rest of the equation during class yesterday. I kept hopping on my tippy toes, only managing to write out a couple of numbers. The teacher, feeling bad that she put me up to the task, politely asked that I return to my seat and let someone else finish out the rest. But I couldn't help the irritation that gnawed from within, picking up on the implication that she meant to say for someone else much taller than myself to do it instead. So begrudgingly, I walked to my seat and avoided the amused gazes from my fellow classmates whom probably couldn't wait to let out a chuckle or two. I took my seat, without so much as sparing a glance to the students sitting in front, and held onto my mechanical pencil tightly as I watched Ms. Teru call out to some tall guy in the back and ask him to do the problem on the board. And as if the humiliation couldn't get any worse, I heard Ratatosk snicker from the desk closest to me as he attempted to stifle his laughter behind a fisted hand.

It was only after we left the classroom did he holler with gut-wrenching laughter at my failed attempt to do the problem. He teased me all through the day and even offered to lend me a pair of platform shoes just so that I could "see over the desk", as he put it. But I did shut him up for a while when I delivered him a painful blow to the stomach. Haha.

Justice was served and he stayed absolutely quiet during sixth period and five minutes after. The quietest fifty five minutes of my life since my meeting with him, that's for sure.

"You better hurry up and get your ass out of the house right this instance!"

I stopped brushing my hair for a few seconds, listening intently for any other noises, before pulling out a bottle of concealer from the drawer to apply more make-up to my cheek. Obviously I didn't have much time to fix my hair up nicely today. Oh well.

I heard something smash on the ground (probably a bottle or plate, considering the number of times this has happened before) and a string of curse words bounce off the walls of the bottom floor, reaching their way up to my room for me to hear. Cold chills ran up my spine when I heard this.

Now I know I had to hurry up.

So with lightening speed, I pinned two floral pins on my hair, fetched my backpack from the chair at my desk and ran down the stairs like my life depended on it, all the while contemplating what I might come across at the bottom of the house.

However, when I hit the last step, I cautiously looked to both sides, seeing no one around for the time being, and bolted down the hall towards the front door. A small smile hit my face at that moment for all I had was five feet to cross before making it to freedom. My adrenaline was running high and I could practically feel my hands shake in anticipation. Gosh, I was so close.

But that was before I saw a hand holding a beer bottle appear from the living room. I immediately halted when I saw the figure make its way in front of the door, bottle lazily swishing back and forth in her hand. My smile disappeared somewhere between the time my heart stopped from seeing the hand appear and when the person spoke to me.

"And why the hell are you leaving at this time when you know you should have left ten minutes ago? Huh?"

I tried keeping a grip on my nerves as I held onto the straps of my backpack. But it was becoming increasingly difficult as I stood there under cold, scrutinizing eyes. I had to grind my teeth together just to keep from gulping loudly. And that was hard.

"Well? Why the fuck are you even standing there?"

I didn't trust my voice at the time. But I knew that keeping silent would only make things worse. So, with much effort, I willed my mouth to say something.

"M-my alarm clock didn't go off again today. But I'm r-ready n-now."

The sloshing liquid in the bottle was a clear reminder that she'd been drinking. Hopefully, she'll let me go without a hassle.

But her face hardened as she thought about what I said, taking a swig from the bottle in her hand while taking slow strides my way.

Who am I kidding? It usually never works that way. So why bother hope for anything different this time around?

"Oh really? And I hope you don't mean to say this is my fault."

"N-no! I would never put the blame on y-"

"Shut the hell up you stupid slut!" I couldn't help but flinch at the harshness of her tone as she yelled that to me. I stood there fidgeting with my fingers as I awaited her next words, my head hung low so as not to let her see the fear she caused me. She didn't like people who were spineless and weak. And she especially didn't like those who showed fear. She HATED people who showed fear.

Her hand roughly rammed onto my chest, sending me back onto the wall and knocking over a few books from the shelf next to me. I looked up to see her staggering my way, a malicious grin playing dangerously on her lips. I yelped some when she yanked at the top of my hair and forcefully pulled my face up to hers, leering at me with that same look of hatred like every other time. Just like every other time she's hurt me.

The smell of alcohol from her breath penetrated my nostrils and burned into them like a blaze of fire. And I was truly scared for what would come next.

"Now you listen here, dumb shit. I have a guest coming over later today and I don't need your sorry ass in detention because you got to school late."

"O-of co-course."

"So don't let me catch you leaving home late again. Got it?" She took this opportunity to yank harder on my hair.

"Y-yes! I-I won't d-do it ag-again. I p-promise."

"Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight before you really ask for it." She threw me to the floor and went into the kitchen with a smug look on her face. Probably to get another bottle of beer.

I didn't waste another second as I bolted out of the house before she could change her mind. I slammed the door shut and made a mad dash down the street, eager to get out of her sight as she instructed.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, ignoring the stabs of pain in my joints. Once I passed a few blocks, I slowed down and hunched over a bench to calm my racing heart. I kept telling myself that this was a short break to catch my breath, nothing more. Unfortunately, it was taking longer than expected.

Darn it! I should already be accustomed to running like this after so long, not panting wildly like I was running my first marathon. What's up with that? Seriously, either I'm out of shape or my legs became too weak to endure the run.

….

Or maybe it's because she just has that effect on me. Maybe she's just able to make me scared out of my mind and manipulate me the way she wants to. Maybe she's just cruel like that.

So can you believe she's my mother?

I know. I never would have believed it myself if it weren't for the fact that I live under the same roof as her and all she ever does is beat the living daylights out of me while constantly comparing me to the dirt beneath her feet. She's definitely a far cry from the regular, nice mothers I read about or pass by on my way to school. You know, the ones that encourage you to try harder, cheer you on at your games and bake you sweets when you've had a rough day. But that's hardly the case with my mom. I'm pretty much her personal slave at home; cleaning the whole house, cooking meals for her everyday and helping her out when she passes out from drinking too much. I've done nothing but tend to her every need. So then why does she treat me this way? Have I not been a good enough daughter? Am I really the reason why our once happy family fell apart? Was my birth really a mistake?

And you know, it's not like I'm asking for much. I'm just in need of answers to explain the reasons why I'm living like this and why my own mother detests me so much. But all I ever get are more questions instead.

It stinks. But I live with it.

My wrist watch read 7:46 and it takes me at least fifteen minutes to get to school. So without another thought, other than getting to school on time, a sprinted the rest of the way with one objective in mind:

Don't make mother upset.

I managed to get to school on time. In fact, I got here with five minutes to spare. I could have cried tears of relief on the spot, but chose otherwise so as not to weird out other students with my sudden crying fit in the middle of the hall.

The day, itself, seemed to be going well so far. Well, except for the fact that…

Slam.

"Hey, Marta. So how's your morning been?"

And just when I thought I shook him off for the day, the guy comes back around to annoy me some more. Aren't I just starting off the day nicely?

I proceeded to pull out my math and science books from my locker, not turning back once to regard his presence. He stayed there nonetheless, leaning on the locker beside me (his locker, coincidentally), and kept trying to make conversation while he waited. That infamous smirk was on his face the whole time he was there since our lunch break after fourth period. And during all this time, I've effortlessly tried ignoring him every time he passed me a note during class and always kept my distance on our way to the next one. But this guy is so persistent. Despite my attempts to get away from him, he'd always be there chatting with me as though we've known each other forever. And it's only been two weeks since we've met.

"Hey, bean girl. Respond, will you?"

I tensed slightly when he said that. But I resisted the urge to walk up to him and pummel his face to the ground. Besides, I have better things to do than to give in to his insistent demands for conversation.

"It's no fun when I'm the only one talking."

Well then, he can go right ahead and talk to himself for all I care. This is payback for him laughing over my humiliation in math class the other day. Serves him right!

"Are you having a bad day? Because usually, you'd be fired up about any comment I make… or swooning over my godly good looks."

I slammed my locker door shut, books in my backpack, and gave him a deathly glare.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like you've never gave me the once over. I see the way your eyes admire my physique when you think I'm not looking. But I must warn you now, I've broken many girls hearts before because of my good looks. So try not to fall in love with me, kay?"

I swear, this guy was bent on ruining my mornings in the worst ways possible.

And darn him! Now I feel a heat rush coming through.

"A-And what gave you the impression that I was ch-checking you out?" NOW the idiot's got me stuttering also? What has been up with me as of late? I gotta practice more control around him if I ever want to hear the end of this.

His smirk widened when he heard me jumbling over my words, bringing his body closer to mines as a way of teasing my emotions. Perceptive jerk.

"Just a guess." he simply replied.

"S-shut up!"

"Now that's the spirit. I was wondering where all that fire had gone to. But now I can see that you were holding it in all this time."

I could feel my eyes twitching at his comment. Seriously, was he just doing all this to rile me up?

"Why don't you go b-bother someone else?"

"Why do that when I already have you?"

"Don't answer my question with another question!"

He put on a pretend frown and crossed his arms in front of him, muttering in feigned offence, "But, Marta. You know I don't like it when you yell at me. It hurts my feelings, you know?"

"Says the liar who uses his acting skills to get him out of trouble."

And just like that, his sad demeanor was gone and replaced with that ever present smirk. "Yeah. But you gotta admit I'm pretty good at it."

"Save it for someone else who'll actually fall for it."

"Oh, that's right. You fall for my looks, not my acting."

I sent a glare his way as I replied to his pervy comment. "I already told you to shut up about that."

"One of these days, you're going to wish you never said this to me."

"Keep dreaming lover boy."

"I do. And in my dreams, you totally want me."

"S-stupid pervert!" I punched him a good one in the arm. But he closed his locker like he didn't feel it. And who would when you have arms like his?

He yanked on my hand, bringing my body to walk beside his, and we walked to the cafeteria hand in hand. And while he may have been a pervy jerk not too long ago, I couldn't help the butterflies that swarmed in my stomach and the blood rushing to my face. If we weren't already walking to the cafeteria to get food, I would of chucked the nauseous feeling to eating something bad.

But I wasn't fooling anyone, including myself.

For one reason or another, I was being drawn to this guy. Even with the attitude he has, I can't help but feel comfortable in his presence and enjoy the little moments of emotion he brings out of me. The emotions I was deprived of showing in my own home.

I had a flashback to when I first laid eyes on him and how I thought he looked like an angel with his shiny blonde hair and perfectly chiseled face. But that was up until he opened that rude, potty mouth of his. And that's when I came to see how this "angel" was actually more of a devil with the appearance of an ethereal being.

He almost had me fooled there for a second. I'll give him props for that.

But even after all the harassment I had to go through with him, and the constant name calling, and the pranks when I'm not looking, and the short jokes, AND lets not forget that one time he….uh…

Now I'm just getting ahead of myself here.

But like I was trying to say, despite all that he's been a pretty good friend. His friendship has served as a great distraction from my home problems if anything.

And it's like, when I'm around him, I don't feel the dread of going back home or the beatings I recently got before coming here.

With Ratatosk by my side, I don't have to worry. I'm not really sure on how to exactly describe it, but it feels like I'm weightless; the burdens of my home life don't weigh down on me like they used to when I had no one to talk to.

So I guess having a small crush (which he doesn't have to know about) on this jerk wouldn't be so bad. After all, nothing stopped me from hanging out with him in the first place (…though, it was mostly because he wouldn't leave me from his sight).

I just want this little bit of happiness is all. Something to look forward to in the haze of hatred, when my mother isn't crushing my self esteem and physically inflicting harm on me.

Is that so wrong?

"….ta? Marta?"

Huh?

"Hello? Earth to Marta. Are you in there?"

When I came to, I saw his hand waving in front of my face and a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I stood there blinking for several moments before looking around to see that we were in the lunch line.

And just how out of it had I been that I didn't even notice us entering the lunch room? Gosh, I really need to be more aware of my surroundings.

Ratatosk, being the ever playful jerk, used the hand he was waving in my face to lightly smack me over the head. I gave him a pout in return, not happy with his action.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that face. It was for your own good."

"And how is hitting me on the head for my own good?"

"It got your attention on me, where it should be."

"Do you ever go a day without harassing me?"

"Nope."

"Hmph."

"But I also did that to warn you that we're coming close to the cashier and you had yet to fill your tray with food."

I looked down to my tray to see that it was empty.

"Oh." And just like he said, I noticed that we were in fact getting close to the cashier. So I grabbed myself a banana and ham sandwich, along with a bottle of fruit juice. He already had his tray filled with two slices of pizza, a candy bar and coke can. We got to the cashier man and I was getting ready to pull out my wallet from my pocket when Ratatosk's hand came down on it. I gave him a questioning look before he turned to the cashier and handed him a wad of money.

Huh? Did he just do what I think he just did?

"Here's your change, sir."

"Thanks."

He dropped the change in his wallet and turned to me right after. "Come on."

He tugged me along to a table at the far corner and we sat down on it with our meals. But I was still shocked for words by his latest act of kindness.

And how did I not notice we were still holding hands all that time? And why was he still holding my hand!

Ratatosk, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed by this as he took a bite of his pizza, looking ahead with an indifferent look on his face. It was as if he didn't know what he did for me. That, or he was passing it off like nothing happened.

But contrary to his belief, what he did wasn't just something of unimportance.

When I thought more about it, the more dazed my mind became. It was like I was seeing him through a new light. This tiny act, alone, changed my perspective of him.

The butterflies in my stomach were wrecking havoc on my body as they attempted to push through the thin material of skin and make themselves known to the guy sitting beside me.

It was so uncharacteristic of him, that it left me in awe. And clearly, I didn't mind if I looked like a blubbering fool in his eyes. Irrationality was becoming a fast friend in my blurring mind of golds and reds.

I vaguely caught sight of his head rearing in my direction, or of the words that escaped his mouth in those moments of silent bliss. I blame his kind gesture on my lack of response.

His face grew irritated as he held the almost diminished pizza slice in his hand, brows pointedly creasing with confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"…Uh…" I absently played with a strand of hair under the table, not paying mind to the tone of his voice but to the thumping of my heart beats. I was silently praying in my head that he hadn't caught notice of the noises pounding away in my abdomen.

"Out with it." His voice sounded demanding, with a tinge of perplexed curiosity. I looked into the crimson pools, not sure how to word my thoughts. I felt speechless, but not in the way my mom makes me feel. This speechlessness felt more, in simple terms, like I was keeping secret to something far deeper than my mind was willing to let me know. A sole word voiced through the euphoria, almost forced if anything.

"….Thanks." I turned my head the other way, suddenly shy of my response. Did he honestly not have a clue as to why I was becoming increasingly flustered in his presence?

"For what?"

"….You know….for paying for my food. That was…um, the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

We sat there in silence, the only sounds were the bustling noises from students in the lunch room. I didn't know what was going through his head, and I didn't make an effort to find out. This was probably the most awkward we've ever been around one another, and that says a lot when taking Ratatosk's personality into account. But I didn't mind too much for the silence. It gave me some time to calm my heart rate and mull over the words I let slip.

Why couldn't I have been more prepared for stuff like this?

Is having a crush really this complicating…and gratifying all at once? Because if it is, I'm not sure if I want to let go of such a feeling, despite the many palpitations I was bound to encounter with my heart or the countless number of times I'd have to work my brain to the max to understand how to go about this new experience. But new experiences are like this, right? Besides, I don't mind the challenge.

Keep it secret, yes. But to brush it aside, no.

I tried my hardest to keep my gaze on my hair when I felt his fingers twitch in my own. But the words that came next reeled my head to the side in more surprise.

"…Your welcome." And once again, I was lost in his eyes. I was so captivated by the sincerity that shone in them, that I feared any movement on my part would ruin the illusion draping us in that moment. Even eye movement was taken with caution.

So as stupid as that sounded, I was dead serious with the actions I took in this suspended time. I wanted it to last.

I wanted this moment to last.

B-bmp. B-bmp.

A strange sense of bashfulness crept its way up as I continued staring into his irises. My hands slightly trembled and I distinctly felt a cold drop of sweat roll down the side of my face and around the rim of my left ear.

'What am I doing? I shouldn't be staring at him like a complete idiot. In fact, what if he's thinking that of me right now? What if…he's thinking he doesn't want to be friends with someone such as myself for staring? Oh no, oh no, oh no! I-I can't do this!'

I was in desperate need of a distraction. Anything just to side step from the intensity of his stare.

So I said the first thing that popped into mind, not thinking over the words beforehand.

"Y-your hand. It's, um…well…" I saw him look down at our joined hands and he made a face, a cross between embarrassment and shock, before swiping his away, swinging it to the other side of his body.

'NOOOOOO! I didn't mean for that to happen!'

"S-sorry about that."

"N-no. That's a-alright. Really." But deep in my heart, and idiotic brain, I knew it wasn't all right. It'd only been a couple of seconds since he let go of my hand and I was already missing the warmth from his. I was seriously tempted to grab it from his side and clasp it again. But I decided against it-he'd probably think I was a weirdo for doing so.

So I opted for sulking in my seat instead while Ratatosk went to the trash bin to empty his tray. I hadn't even touched my food. So I stuffed the contents into my backpack for later, so as not to appear rude for throwing it away after Ratatosk went and paid for it. And if I ever wanted to receive anymore of his rare kindness, I had to think things through while in front of him.

And maybe next time, I won't point out the obvious if he hasn't seen it. Especially if he's holding my hand! What is wrong with me! Urgh!

(insert mental, violent beatings to the head cuz I absolutely deserve it)

Ratatosk plopped down on his seat, a deep frown displayed the usual smirk. He gave me this pointed look, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't.

Where was he going with this, anyways?

…

Wait a minute. Is he…is he going to tell me not to hang out with him anymore? Did I really ruin my only chances to finally getting close to him?

(insert hysteric, mental screaming to the mix cuz now I'm freaking out!)

There's no way in heck that I'm mentally prepared for this kind of rejection. I mean, just when things were finally looking good for me too.

No. Maybe he's acting like this because I have something on my face. Yeah, that's what it is. Right?

Who am I kidding?

Even though I looked mildly confused on the outside, I was practically falling apart on the inside. This obviously wasn't going anywhere good. He really does want to end our friendship. And it's all because I decided to weird him out by my excessive staring. And yes, I'll admit that he was right about me staring. But that only happened three times, not counting now. THREE TIMES!

But that's no reason why I should be suffering this anguish. I'm a girl and he's a good-looking guy. Is it really a crime to look?

Oh, great. Now I sound creepy when I say that. Maybe I truly am messed up in the brain.

Oh, well. So long good friend and potential first crush. You will be missed.

I braved one last look at his face, accepting the inevitable to come.

But maybe I should have been watching for his hands instead.

For in that very instant, his large palm shot forward and laid flat on my chest. It all happened in slow motion and somewhere along that time my mind became a blank. If I was too shocked for words by his sudden act of kindness before, then I could consider now as me being utterly paralyzed by the hand that groped my breast. I didn't even have the right sense of mind to lift my hands from my sides and give him a good one to the face, or yell out obscenities like no tomorrow.

I was speechless to the core. So I stood there, caught in the moment of shock and being utterly mortified, his palm on my chest, and he had the nerve to suddenly blurt out the most offence remark I've ever heard.

"You're as flat as a board." he said with a straight face, acting like what he did was nothing. The heck!

Flat? FLAT! After that awkward moment in which I worried myself to death for, and he had the nerve to say I was flat chested?

I felt a nerve snap on my temple and my hands were shaking vigorously, and not because I was nervous either. So, with eye vision seeing red and making an animated target mark appear on him, I swung my good hand back and propelled it forward, hitting him roughly in the gut while shouting, "YOU PERVERT!"

His body flung back a couple of feet till he slammed into the trash bins at the corner of the building. Everyone in the lunchroom turned silent when a loud bang sounded off, only to see Ratatosk had made the noise. And seeing his body sprawled on the ground, banana peels and mashed potatoes littering his head, gave me a little bit of satisfaction. But that didn't mean it over-rid my anger towards him. I let out one final huff of indignation before stomping out of there, ignoring the whispers of the student body behind me.

I didn't even think about lunch as I stormed off to the nearest bathroom to "chill out" for a while before class.

I walked outside to the front of the school, still fuming over what happened a while ago at the lunch room. I didn't even bother waiting up for Ratatosk, who desperately tried apologizing all today and at the lockers. But I simply ignored him and left before he did. Besides, who does he think he is to make a remark on my "assets" if you will? I'm a growing girl too.

So I may not be big like a lot of the girls here. But my body IS making room for improvement. So he shouldn't open that big, pervy mouth of his if he isn't going to say anything nice. I sometimes question why I even hang out with him, despite my awareness of this little crush towards him. Heck, I can't seem to get a grasp on why he, of all the guys here, had to be the one I developed a small amount of affection for.

But being out here alone, watching all the other students make their leave, I was struck with the same fear I get every time school is over: fear. And for a second, it made me wish I waited up for him, giving me a little assurance that things weren't going to be so bad. But my stupid pride got in the way…again.

Eventually, I would have to get over my musings and walk back home to make dinner for my mom and her surprise guest. But things weren't settling well with me. I instinctively placed a hand on my stomach, feeling the all to familiar nausea at the pit and making my legs feel like jello. I opened up my backpack, pulling out the juice from earlier, and took a quick swig from the plastic bottle to sober my anxiety. I lost myself for a minute in the sweet, tangy flavor that filtered through my lungs and quenched the need for liquid from earlier when I was still fuming over the groping incident. I stood there, letting my senses take over.

But the stupid autumn wind had to breeze through and shake me from my thoughts. I was all to reminded of the fact that we were in the beginning of fall and all I had on was my school uniform and a light sweater I fished from out of my locker. I looked behind me to see if Ratatosk's head would pop through the entrance doors, but was only met with disappointment when he didn't show up. I guess I had that coming to me for always treating him so badly. But I also couldn't help it if he deserved it a lot of the times.

But I do miss his company, however. I never felt the weight of anxiety when he was near. Maybe I let myself get a little too close for comfort, being that I was so used to putting up a mask in front of everyone and making them believe I was ok when I wasn't. And it was because I didn't have anyone to hang out with that the feelings of dread from going home didn't feel as bad like now. But then I met Ratatosk and everything changed.

I let myself get too close. To him.

I heaved one last breath, and gave the doors a last glance, before I walked down the steps and got on the sidewalk going down the street. To my personal nightmare, so to say. I walked the whole way, occupying my mind with the scenery around me that consisted of passing by cars and children playing in leaf piles. But even that didn't help to diminish the fear that shook my body. I kicked a few rocks to the side and counted the many colorful trees along the way, taking note of their daily changes and how such untouched beauties survived through the harsh weather presented to them. In a way, I was like these trees; I go through my fair share of 'harsh weather' and yet I manage to stay standing through it all. I can't even bring myself to believe it. And like these trees, will I someday give way under all the pressure and slump forward like the few I passed by at the nearby cemetery? Will I, too, reach my limits like nature has?

I furiously shook my head from side to side, trying to rid myself of such thoughts. It wasn't healthy to think like this. I just have to keep walking forward with my head held higher and my stance more firmer. I…just had to.

I round of sneezes escaped my nose, each one rang louder as I tried to walk in a straight path. I inwardly hoped I wasn't coming down with anything. My mom's anger would fly off the handle if she so much as saw me blowing my nose every few seconds. She didn't like being handed the responsibility of taking care of me. And besides, sick or not, she would still have me working around the house. That never changed. I would know because she's done this to me before- dragging me out of bed to clean the house or run errands for her, while threatening me with a good beating if I slacked off around the house. Apparently, being ill isn't an excuse to get out of doing anything. But I managed all the while.

The bruise on my cheek, a 'gift' I received a couple of days before from my mother dearest, stung from the cold wind (and possibly because I was nearing my home). The walk didn't even feel like fifteen minutes. I guess time flies by quick when you have to face the inevitable.

How enjoyable.

I stole a glance at the windows from the veil of my bangs and saw the curtains flutter close in haste. She was probably worried that I wouldn't make it in time to cook dinner and went to see if I was close by. It doesn't even surprise me that she does this because I know she only checks the window to see if I'm late or not- it's never about my safety or anything mother-like in that nature.

Taking hesitant steps towards the front door, I inhaled a large breath and dug through my pockets to get out my house key. I opened the door slowly to see my mom chatting wildly with a woman her age, beer bottles littering the table top and clouds of smoke floating above their heads. When she heard the door close, my mom turned her eyes on me and placed her cigarette on the ash tray near her wrist. She tapped her index finger impatiently as I fumbled to unbutton my sweater, not daring to lift my eyes back to hers.

"You're three minutes late."

I grinded on my teeth, scared by the tone of her voice. "I'm sorry." I managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Well? What the hell are you doing standing there like an idiot? Get your ass in the kitchen and make us our dinner already."

"R-right!" I scurried to the stove and pulled out the necessary ingredients to make them some spaghetti. As I did this, I couldn't help but overhear my mom and her friend laugh it up about how stupid and lazy I was. I pushed back the tears that threatened to spill and continued to work on dinner. It was the least I could do not to further anger my mom. And she never hesitated to show me how angry she was, even in the presence of her friends (but they probably also do the same to their kids, if they had any).

I stood at the pot, stirring in the contents, and willed my mind to block out the name calling I heard from them, even if it hurt a lot to hear. I kept my focus solely on making dinner and quickly grabbing something for myself to munch on upstairs. When the spaghetti looked about ready, I pulled out two bowls and scooped the pasta into them. I put two cups of water on the table and waited by my mom's side to see if she needed anything else before I took off to my room. She gave the bowl a hard stare before looking up at me, her eyes narrowed in that same fashion when she feels the need to hit me. It caused me to take a step back. But she was quicker, roughly grabbing on my shoulder and flinging my body to the fridge. I brought a hand to my shoulder to rub at the sore spot while she closed in on me, spaghetti bowl in hand.

"What the FUCK is this?" she demanded, pointing an offending finger at the pasta.

"I-it's s-spaghetti."

"And did I tell you we wanted this for dinner?"

I averted my gaze between her face and the shaking fist beside her hip. "N-no. But, you never t-told me you w-wanted anything specific."

She flung the bowl to the other side of the kitchen, stomping towards my shaking figure while her friend shouted encouraging words to her to "give it to me good" and stuff like that. I cowardly placed my hands in front of me in a defense position, pleading with her to not hit me.

"P-please, mom! I'm sorry! Please d-don't hurt me!" She swung at my head repeatedly and somewhere along the way I ended up on the floor.

I don't remember much else. Because right after receiving a couple of blows to the head, my vision became blurry and soon I was lost in the world of sleep.

A/N: So what did you guys think of this chapter? I would very much like to hear your thoughts on this and how it's coming along so far. Until then, I'm going to get my butt in gear for more studying. Woo hoo (I'm saying this with a sarcastic look on my face, by the way).

Anyways, leave me a review please cuz I worked hard to make this longer. So the least you can do is make this writer happy by giving her feedback on her work. Thanks!