Oh my god I'm so sorry! I had no idea that this chapter was in code before! I fixed it, and this is the repost.

(Shiloh's POV)

That night was really bad too. My parents have gotten used to me coming home late, as I fed them a lie about school getting let out later. I'm a very good liar.

I have to be.

I accidently undercooked their dinner too, and apparently it was too salty, so they made me cook a new one. The meal in the first place took a hour to make, so the next time, It took me an hour and a half to make sure everything was alright. As soon as they were satisfied and wasted, I went up to my room and fell asleep.

I was awoken at four thirty by a loud bang.

I shot upright and turned on my dirty bedside lamp.

Both of my parents were standing over me, and my mother grabbed me by the back of the shirt and threw me down the stairs. I hit the bottom with a thud, my head starting to hurt. I scrambled to my feet nonetheless, afraid of what they were about to do to me. My mother ran down the stairs, grabbed me by my ripped pajamas, and threw me down the basement stairs again. I caught myself on the railing before I hit the ground, and I heard the door slam. I was still really tired, so I decided that it was best to just suck it up and sleep with the rats. I curled up and fell asleep.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of teachers, worksheets, and Charles and Alli. I went over to their house every day, and somehow, the week went by surprisingly fast.

It was soon Saturday, and with Saturday came many, many chores. I didn't mind doing chores, as it occupied my restless mind. But, all in all, I hated Saturdays. You see, my dad doesn't work on Saturdays, so I have to put up with his random slaps on the butt or other places on my body all through the day. It gets really, really annoying, but I would get killed if I said anything. My chores consist of mopping, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning up puke that would sometimes magically appear on the side of the couch next to many beer bottles, and basically scrubbing every surface in the house. Then I would make my parents breakfast, lunch, and dinner without a single word coming from my mouth. And, if I was lucky and if they were drunk enough, I would go to sleep without a single scratch.

I now lived in the basement, however, with all the rats and spiders. I found a pillow and a blanket down there, and since it was getting into the cold months, I would definitely need it.

The next week passed very quickly, and everyday I went over to Charles and Alli's house. It kept me sane, I realized, in the middle of a living hell. The next weekend was horrific, my mother being drunk all weekend. My parents also smoke, so I got a lot of second hand smoke inhaled out of that weekend.

Monday was dreary. It was the first monday in the new month of November, and it was getting chilly out. With my parents being the way they are, they would never buy me anything, so I was doomed to wear loose, dirty, and ripped clothing. School wasn't very good; Asia and her friends tripped me in the hall. But I was happy. I would be seeing Charles and Alli today, and that made me happy.

As soon as the school bell rang, I was out of that school like lightning. I bolted down the street, my sights set on Charles and Alli's house. Marley met me at our usual spot, and together we ran to the house. I couldn't wait to see them.

The past two weeks have probably been the best two weeks of my life, no joke. I've bonded with Charles and Alli in a way I didn't think was even possible. Who knew two people can be so nice? They've acted like I was there own daughter, and I have never been so grateful. I've gotten so close to them, that I feel like I can tell them anything.

Anything but my secret. No one can know that.

Not even Charles and Alli.

The next day at school wasn't too bad. My only problem was Asia and her friends, as per usual.

Asia Reynolds is the most brutally vicious girl in my grade. She is asian, as her name implies, and with her pink shoes and pink lipgloss, she pretty much owns every girl in the grade. I bet I know what you're thinking; "You're only in third grade."

A lot of people think that. But you don't know our generation.

Anyways, after school I walked to Charles and Alli's house. It started pouring rain halfway to their house, but I continued, my pace increasing slightly. When I was invited inside by Charles, we made our way to the kitchen.

A large box of pizza sat on the table.

Alli was there too, getting out plates and cups. I was beginning to get nervous. I knew they were trying to be nice, but they had no idea what would happen to me if my parents smelled food on my breath. I would most likely get murdered.

"We got pizza!" Alli said, putting her hands in the air. "Woo!"

I smiled. I finally learned to smile, by the way. It took about a half an hour of practicing in front of a mirror to finally get the proper lift in my cheekbones. By the time I was done, I was extremely tired of looking at the person with red hair and an ugly face in the mirror.

I sat down at the table as Alli got me a piece of pizza. I've never eaten at their house before, and I haven't really had a decent meal in about three years. Sure, I've eaten since then, but only scraps off the floor or food from the trash at school. Yeah, life sucks, but I've adapted.

Alli put a greasy slice of pizza on my plate, and I stared at it. It was just like it was at the cafeteria at school, except this pizza looked better. With shaking hands, I lifted the pizza and put it in my mouth. I cautiously bit down, carefully judging the taste. It tasted amazing! Better than anything I've ever tasted in my life! I hungrily ate the rest of the slice, happy that I was finally getting fed. When I finished my slice, I had both Charles and Alli's eyes on me.

"Someone was hungry," Charles said with a smile on his face. I grinned, glad that I was finally able to. Alli got me another slice, and I kept happily eating.

I then set off for home a few minutes later, my stomach full for the first time in my life. The longer I walked, however, the more I realized that I was as good as dead. I shouldn't have eaten. They would smell food on my breath, and then they would do unimaginably horrible things to me. My pace picked up as a feeling of cold dread filled me, the chewed pizza in my stomach weighing a hundred pounds. I was in a full on sprint, my feet pounding on the pavement. I ran up the sidewalk and into my house.

In about a second, two things happened.

I opened the door to the house as a hand closed on my throat and pushed me up against a wall.

I gasped for air, my hand clawing at the hand prying me to the wall.

"There you are," My mom whispered. I squirmed, trying to get away from her.

"Where were you?" My father demanded.

I thought of a lie fast.

"There was c-construction." I whispered, trembling. "I c-couldn't get through."

"LIES!" My mother spat, pulling my hair back to my chin was at her nose. "I smell food on your breath… where'd you steal it from? Who gave it to you?"

"I didn't eat anything," I lied. "I promise!"

My mom took her grubby hands and ripped open my jaw. I accidentally breathed, and she growled. She grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to the bathroom. She pushed me on the ground and let me go. My eyes stung with tears of pain from her yanking on my hair.

"You're gonna regret ever eating anything," She growled. She ripped open my jaw again and stuck two of her fingers down my throat. I gagged as her dirty fingernails scraped the back of my throat. I started vomiting, my pizza rushing out of my mouth. I hated throwing up; it was probably the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. My mother left me there, leaving me to gasp and retch. I then picked myself off of the dirty bathroom floor and carried myself down to the basement, where I belonged.