Kyle P.O.V

Yesterday night, Luke went to an event with Alister. I wasn't allowed to attend because Luke didn't want me to get hurt. I tried calling True but he simply answered with a short and sweet text saying he'd be busy and couldn't hang.

I had been bored but I lived with it, watching their Netflix and eating the cupcakes that Alister made the other day, which tasted awesome.

I woke, however, in Luke's arms. Naked.

I blushed against Luke's chest, where I was currently trapped, Luke's arms trapping me. His chin was resting against my head, one of his legs overtop of mine.

I snuggle into his warmth, smiling to myself. I loved waking up to see Luke. I knew he was mine, and he knew I was his. It simply worked that way.

I couldn't be happier to be where I am.

True P.O.V

The house was extremely quiet. When we got home, dad snapped at me. He was angry that I didn't tell him I knew Alister Clenevence. But father need's to remember that he's never told me about the mafia.

I had gone to bed with a very sore back, and tears streaming down my face.

But waking up was so much worse.

I had an aching pain from where the buckle of the belt had hit me repeatedly. Dad does this stuff in the basement so my siblings don't know. I don't even think Chris knows.

Luckily dad didn't see the marks on my stomach from those two gang members, via the glass incident. I don't know what he would have done but I wasn't really interested in finding out.

I stared at the ceiling, wondering why my life was this bad. It was like 3 in the morning but I couldn't go back to sleep. The only reason I went to sleep earlier was that I passed out because of the pain.

Every time I breathed I felt like wincing in pain.

Sometime in the morning, my door creaked open, making my eyes pop open to looking at the intruder. Bryan.

He was in his pajamas and holding his favorite teddy bear, Ollie, which was a gift from me to him. I got Ollie for him two Christmases ago in secret.

"True? Are you awake?" He sounded on the brink of tears so I sat up carefully, to avoid hurting myself worse.

"What's wrong Bryan?" I asked quietly, feeling the cuts and bruises rubbing against the fabric of my shirt and sweatpants causing me major discomfort.

"I-I ca-can't s-s-sleep." He whimpered out, before rushing towards my small bed, and climbing in next to me and snuggling into my side.

A subtle warmth filled me. Bryan came to me. Not Chris, Madisyn, Michael, or our parents. Me.

Though he probably did it just because he was scared and he was simply used to coming to me.

He snuggled closer if it was possible and wrapped his arms around my stomach, and I felt the wetness of his chest, he'd been crying. I wrapped my arms around him, resting my chin on top of his head, protectively covering my brother away from the world.

I wasn't exactly sure when my brother fell asleep, or when I did, but regardless, whenever he did, and when he did, I pulled myself up from the bed, my body resisting and aching, but I managed to stand up.

I looked down at my sleeping brother. I picked my brother up, though the pains in my back made me want to collapse.

I pulled him into a bridal position, and my brother, with tears staining his cheeks, I walked him towards his room, the green thing it is, which was all the way down the hall. The bedroom closet to our parents.

I opened the door, walking into a child's dream room, walked over to the queen sized bed, before pulling the covers up, and laying my brother carefully down.

I pull the covers over my brother. I kiss his forehead, before stepping back and turning away, leaving my brother on his bed, in his bedroom, where he belonged because I knew, he didn't need to get close to me. Not when I wouldn't be here much longer. Not in this house, not in this world.

I wouldn't be here. Plain and simple. They may not know it yet, but it's true.

Not questions to ask whether I would be here in a couple years because if what's going on now, I would be around for a couple more years.

I walked out of my brother's room, a sigh of air leaving my mouth as I rubbed my face.

I look up and towards the ceiling, wondering what other children do. Do they live in happiness? Do they feel their father's belt at least once every couple months?

I doubt it.

I really, really doubt it.

I walked towards my room, before deciding I didn't want to be here right now, not in this house. I would never call this place home.

The home was a place filled with love and joy, this was a house full of anger and hate, a white lie that covered my family in a blanket of perfection, but you saw, if you could pass that cover, you'd see what my family is like when no one else is looking. You'd see what I see. You'd see hate, and fear, and panic. You'd see distrust, agony, and false love. They didn't love me, and I don't think they each other.

I blinked my thoughts away, took a step back from my door, shaking my head, before rushing downstairs, not caring if I woke anyone up, I couldn't care less or more. Not when they treated me like literal shit.

I walked straight out the door, not caring anymore. I slam the door behind me, knowing very well that it would wake almost everyone in the house.

I walk around the house, around plants and the shrubs on the path, quickly, breathing out as the air around me, I shiver slightly. For it being three in the morning, it was very cold for an October morning in New York.

I rush over to my bike, grabbing the handles of the bike that I worked hard to get, pushing it into motion before jumping on, though it hurt my already sore body.

I started my bike, and drove out of my families driveway, and looked back one single time to see the kitchen, living room, and brother's room's lights on, I had woke my family up, and I didn't give a shit.

I drove for about 15 minutes before pulling up to a park that I'd been to, to clear my mind, to rid of the bad thoughts, to stop from thinking about killing myself.

I turn my bike off, put the side holder and let my bike lean against it, and I turn and walk towards the swings before sitting into the swing, before releasing a sigh as the pain is lifted slightly, I reach down and rub the cut on my leg with one hand, and rubbing my eyes with the other.

I lift my legs and kick off slightly swinging, the cold fall air rushing around me.

I sigh as push my legs out from under me and the swing lifts me to the air, a sudden moment of freedom, a moment that I wasn't True Night, a boy who is abused by his family, no, in that single moment, I was simply True. I could be anyone I wanted to be. Then, no matter how dazzling the moment was, it disappeared just as quickly. I felt a tightness in my chest and I knew it was from the cold fall air. I sighed as I stopped the swing, for getting off.

I looked down at my phone to see it was 4:13 a.m. I looked up to see the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. I looked at the precious sunrise wondering how many more sunrises I'd live to see. Live to feel it's warmth against my pale milky skin.

I didn't know, I couldn't tell you

I walked back over to my bike, burning feelings coming from literally everywhere, I didn't think I could go home, so I went to the next best place. Karin's.

Karin P.O.V

I was working on papers files for one of my patients.

I look down at a photo frame that held a very old and rare picture. My mother was holding a baby girl with dark hair on the top of her head, little Nika. Standing beside the chair was a little boy with dark curls, Kyle. And there I stood, on the other side of my mother, this was about a month before she fell deeper into her drug path.

I was so thankful that I came home earlier the day I did.

I held Nika's hand in mine as we walked up the walkway, that had cracks in from years of neglect, though it wasn't the only thing neglected on this lot. Nika had her hair pulled up into two little braids that fell down the side of her face.

I walked up to the door expecting it to be unlocked but it wasn't. I sigh, knowing Kyle was supposed to be home. I walk over to the window about to tap on it to let Kyle know to open the door but froze when I saw mom's boyfriend, Mike, locking the bedroom door, obviously trapping my mother, who was probably off her head in drugs and alcohol. Mike walked back into the room, and the panic turned up. He was holding two needles, full of who know's what, and ropes. I yanked my phone calling the police instantly.

"Hello this is 911, what's your emergency?" The lady on the server asked.

"Hello, this is Karin Emerson, my mom is high and her boyfriend is treating my brother and his friend with needles and rope, I'm locked outside the house," I say quickly into the mic of my phone.

"Can I please have your address?" The server lady asked.

"123 Richmen off of Blackcroth," I tell her, Nika looking at me confused but not saying anything.

"I have squad cars heading towards your location as we speak, please stay on the line and inform me if anything changes." She said to me.

I watched as the man walked towards my brother and True, once they noticed the needles and rope they hopped off the couch and backed away from the man, who I bet neither of them knew by name but knew he was threating them.

That's when I heard the sirens in the distance getting closer, I begged for them to drive just a little faster before something bad happened. I quickly went in search of the emergency key, but right as the police showed up, I still hadn't found the key, that's when I felt a tug on my shirt to see Nika holding the house key in her little hands, completely unaware her brother was being threatened with needles and rope.

The police rushed up, asking me to open the door, and I inserted the key and pushed the door open to see Mike, holding True against his chest, his arms pinning True to him, while the boy tried to fight the much larger man off, struggling with his life, but soon lost his grip on air.

"Police! Drop the boy!!" The police yelled raising guns at Mike. Mike, just then noticing the police, dropped True, the needles and the rope and slowly raised his hands in the air, a sign of giving up.

That day will forever feel like a nightmare that came true. I know it scarred True and Kyle, both of which admitted to still have occasional nightmares about that day, though it probably hurt True more, since he was grabbed and much younger, being 12.

I was about to turn the light off and head to bed when I heard a gentle knock as if whoever was knocking didn't want to disturb me.

I rush towards the door, turning the knob to see a tired looking True.

Oh, boy . . . what happened now?

I tugged him into my house, closing the door behind me, before dragging him towards my medical room, him, knowing the routine, sat on the bed.

I slipped blue medical gloves on, before walking over to him with a clipboard in my hands.

"Where?" I ask. He sighs before gesturing everywhere.

I sigh as well, knowing this was going to be a long morning.

"Take the shirt off," I say after a moment. He looked down as he pulled the shirt overhead and what I saw made me gasp. His chest was covered in belt marks. Mark, after a mark of buckles that seemed to imprinted on the boy. I twirled my finger to see his back and it was majorly worse than his chest.

"Father?" I ask for the papers, notes I didn't show anyone, and would never show anyone. A simple nod explained everything to me. I knew his father was abusive but I hardly brought it up knowing how much it brought True down, well down further than he already was, which was already to low.

I sigh and push his bangs out of his eyes, seeing the look in his eyes. He was breaking. I saw it, but he hid it well. If you weren't looking for it, you'd see his smile and think he was just a 15 year old who had a normal life. Nothing could be further to the truth than that.

This boy would break into two, and when he did, no one would be there to tell him it was going to be okay.

That being the worst part of it.

Because who wants to die alone?