Some scars don't hurt. Some scars are numb. Some scars rid you of the capacity to feel anything ever again.—Joyce Rachelle

[6]

such an early age is something most people would find mortifying. I have endured years upon years of torture by people who I thought cared for me.

My best friend and my second mother; Gary had always been a close family friend to us. He always seemed to look at my parents with admiration. He was so gentle with me.

My parents both had no siblings and no family alive. They had to think of someone who was worthy of looking after their daughter if something happened to them. That one person happened to be Gary.

Uncle Gary.

We were so close that I called him that.

Imagine the pain and hurt a child would have gone through when she or he found out that their parents had died in a car crash. I was old enough to understand that I wasn't going to see them again.

Now, imagine the pain that the child went through when the only family they had left tortured them for no reason. His once caring eyes, filled with hatred after that day. The worst thing about it though?

The fact that, that child had no idea what they had done to cause it.

Then her uncle married their best friend's mother. They knew he hit that small child. It happened so much that it wasn't anything new and that they thought they would try it.

Ever since the day my parents died, I have been this tiny shell. So hollow and fragile. The only people that child had left had abandoned them. The only people they had to look up to, gone. Just like that.

My cries for them to stop only fired them more. Punch after punch. Kick after a kick. Screams. Loud, piercing screams.

"You fucking bitch!" A fierce punch is thrown at my face. "How fucking dare you?"

I try to stop the pain. I try not to feel anything, but I am no vampire.

I am only human.

"You shouldn't have come in between my fight with Black you whore!" David reaches for my head and smashes it against the wall. A shrilling scream breaks free from my mouth when I feel a bone break.

David freezes. His glare penetrates straight through my own watery eyes. I slump down onto the ground and cry.

I cry for the life I have not had; the experiences I will never have. I grieve for my parents, and I weep for the fear I have lived with.

I have to stop this. I have to tell someone. Maybe not tonight but in time. I have to save myself.

I have to.

-

"So, I was thinking we base our story around a girl whose house in the country had burnt down. She loses everything and is then faced with the decision to stay and mend her broken land or, move to the city and start a new life and -" A bored Adam cuts off Lily.

"No offence, Lily, but that is a boring plot," Adam grumbled.

"Well, what do you have in mind then, Adam?" Lily glares at Adam obviously taking offence to Adams' previous statement.

"It could be something about a guy who's had to deal with a troublesome past thanks to this girl's brother..." Adam says, glaring at me.

Okay, let's just take a deep breath.

"That could work..." Lily strokes her imaginary beard, deep in thought. Adam stares at her, his mouth open ajar in disbelief.

"What about this," Lily shifts comfortably in her seat.

"Elijah Matthews has never had a 'typically' easy life. His mother was an alcoholic, and his father could never keep a job. Elijah had to find his own way to earn money, so he started to race cars against other kids his age. Elijah was unbeatable, and that made his rivals pissed. One morning, or night, he was helping his mum back to her room when he heard a loud crashing noise...something happened after that. It made Elijah go all crazy and depressed - I don't know - but then he meets a girl! That could work..." Lily mumbles thoughtfully, writing that down on her piece of paper.

"So, what do you guys think?" We both look at her in disbelief, amazed by her idea. She actually considered Adams idea and created a whole plot around it. She is amazing.

Adam and I nod slowly in complete, utter disbelief. "Awesome! So, that's what we're going with?" We nod again.

"Cool, Isabelle and Adam, do you guys want to write the first chapter?"

"Um - I guess?" I ask back, unsure of myself. Adams stares at a wall and nods. He probably has no idea what is going on.

"Okay then, we'll start next week," she says before standing up to greet us out.

"Thanks for having me here, Lily. We could've just done it at the library..."

Lily shakes her head. "No way, it's much comfier having it here and anyways, I hate libraries."

I laugh. "Okay then, see you tomorrow!"

I walk out the door and start my way back to the house. The wind rustles through my hair as I walk quietly down the dark road. Streetlights illuminate the ground just for me to see where I am stepping.

I hiss in pain when I step harshly on my ankle. The bone I thought was broken is, apparently, 'okay'. No one really knows if it is broken, so, it has been decided to stop the punishments for a while.

How generous of them.

Suddenly I hear the rumble of a motorcycle from behind me. I turn around quickly in fear of David finding me when I realise it's just Adam. I sigh in relief but then instantly tense up again.

"Want a ride?" He shouts over the loud roar of the engine. I contemplate if I want to put my life in any further danger. I look around and realise how much of a walk I have left before I get back to the house.

I barely nod my head before walking over to him. Adam hands me his helmet, and I slide onto his bike, slight pain snaking itself through my body. Stupid bruises.

Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around Adam's torso and hold on tightly as we race down the road. The strong currents of wind mess with my hair while streetlights flash by in a daze. The motorbike slowly comes to a stop, and I undo the helmet from my head.

"Thanks for the ride..." I hoarsely whisper. Adam stares at me in confusion before shaking his head, smirking.

"No problem, Prezioso," he whispers back.

"Prezioso?" I question. Adam smiles softly at me. Just a half hour ago, he was glaring at me as if I was the one to cause the fight between him and David. Well, technically it was my fault, but still. Are we doing nicknames now?

"Search it up, sweetheart." With that, Adams' engine roars back to life and off he goes. A smile breaks out across my face.

Wordlessly, I walk to my back window and climb up the tree to open it. I jump in silently and pull out my laptop.

How do you even spell this word?

'Prezso?' Nothing.

'Prezisco?' Nope.

'Prestisco?' Yeah...no.

"Prezioso..." I try the name on my tongue and smile when I find the meaning.

Precious. It is Italian for precious. I am not precious though. If he knows what is happening to me, he will leave so quickly. I smile even though I know I am not precious.

He thinks I am and that is enough for me.