{Willow's POV}
"RYE!" I screamed. "WHY ARE YOU PULLING MY HAIR?!" Rye is 5, and tons of trouble for his age. He won't ever leave me alone! And now he's pulling on my hair! My mom did it in a special braid like she wore and he can't mess it up!
"MOM!" I scream for her, since Rye won't stop. She quickly runs in the spare room and looks at us. Rye conveniently decided to start crying as soon as she came in. Oh, come on!
She picks Rye up and carries him out of the room. I huff and mutter under my breath. Fine. I see how it is. I go to the corner of the room and sulk. I hug my knees, keeping the blue dress material down at the same time. I just feels right, even though no one is in here.
Well, the cat is. Mom said it was her sister's cat, but I've never seen her sister. The cat, Buttercup, has always looked a little bit messed-up. Part of it's left ear is missing and it's tail's missing some fur.
Mom says the cat's been through a lot, and so has she. She says she'll explain when I'm older. I'm already nine, why can't she explain now?
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