-Chapter 4-

A couple agonizing hours later, we had dinner. Mrs. Tread, Kiana, Blondie, and I all currently stood in the kitchen. It had yellow walls and rotting trim that looked like it hadn't been replaced in a long, long time. Surprisingly though, it wasn't all that small, possibly the biggest room in the house.

"Doris! Get the dishes from the cabinet and set the table. Don't just stand there and stare, make yourself useful for once."

Okay, so her name is Doris. At least I knew her name now. I watched as Doris searched the cabinet for plates, looking uncomfortable. Mrs. Tread was cooking something that smelled like horribly burnt porridge. Kiana sat at the table, openly glaring at me.

Not knowing what to do, I sat at the small table across from Kiana. It was that or next to her, and by the way she was sneering at me, I knew she didn't want me near her period. So, despite the heat of her stare, I sat down and smiled as brightly as I could muster. Her glare faltered slightly but then flared up all over again.

Doris placed a plate full of half-cooked porridge in front of me. She smiled sadly. I shrugged and began to eat my mush. It wasn't that bad for porridge. Well, it was if you ignored the charcoal aftertaste.

"What's wrong?" Kiana said viscously. "Not fancy enough for you?"

The porridge was plenty fancy. There were times when we ran dangerously low on money and had to eat porridge once a week. I could still remember the day my brother had offered to start working. My dad refused instantly and they argued for two hours straight. It was the first time I had heard them both so mad, so insistent.

Rian and I were both so young. He was fourteen and I was only ten. Dad didn't want Rian to work at such a young age. Finally, when Rian turned sixteen, dad allowed him to take up a part-time job. We never had money problems again.

So with that, I excused myself from the table to take a shower.

So, there I stood, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a matted, greasy mess and frizzed out a couple of inches. But that's not what I was looking at. Nor was I looking at the dark circles that had formed under my eyes during the past week. I was looking at my shoulder, at the jagged scar that ran across it. The pink, ugly scar that the nurse said would be permanent. Meaning I would have this scar to look at for the rest of my life. However long that may be. Always reminding me of what happened.

And that it was my fault.

I had pushed dad a week before it happened. I wanted to go to a concert, just once, before I turned seventeen. I begged and begged and begged.

Until dad came home one day, surprising us both with front row tickets to a concert. The next day, we went. Only we didn't really, because half way there, our car plummeted into the river. I made it out with a scar and minor cuts. They didn't make it out at all. My forty-six year old father and twenty-one year old brother both died that day. Leaving me alone, to fend for myself.

On my seventeenth birthday.

Sorry guys! This chapter is really short!