As I sit on my bed gingerly, I hear mother's T.V., and Marie's radio blasting. My left arm still stings from the scratches mother put there earlier. Apparently I didn't fall to my knees fast enough. The familiar feeling of uncooked rice bit at my knees. At seventeen, I , Sang Sorenson, am a live-in slave.

               I finished high school online at the age of sixteen. With no school to go to, I am made to do every single chore, every single day, even if it was already done. Complaints are met with punishments, so I don't speak out very often. I would love to go to college someday, but at the moment I have bigger problems- like my "mother" trying to destroy me, mentally and physically, officially keeping me nonexistent in this house. As I was checking on mother one night after my punishment, I noticed something shining under her bed. After leaving a banana and a bottle of water on her nightstand, I took the metal box up to my room. I opened it to find a single picture and all of my official documents, littered with post-its. The picture was taken on a sunny day, with plenty of trees and greenery in the background. In it was a couple; a beautiful blonde woman with a huge smile, her green eyes bright and full of life. The man, however, was no stranger. It was my father. The man who has always ignored my punishments to go on extended business trips. He never complained about what my mother did to me. And now I knew why. She wasn't my mother. 

                The documents held my name and date of birth, but the notes on them told the real truth -of how they were made to look exactly like my sister's. Forged. It made sense. My "mother" had never seemed to like me. Sure, there was a time that I remembered her being loving, but I had long since chalked that thought up to hallucinations.  

               Shaking off my trail of thought,  I rose from my bed, feeling the four hours of kneeling. Near my bookshelf was a small door, nearly hidden, that I had found when we first moved to this house. It had become my haven, bearing hidden books, my journal, and most recently, my backpack. Last school year, Marie had decided that her bag was too childish, and threw it away. After everyone fell asleep that night, I went and got it from the garbage. I think that even then, I knew that I was going to run. 

              Reaching into the space, I grabbed the bag and filled it with two outfits and a very old flowered night gown. I go over to my mattress and get the sleeve of crackers that I had smuggled up a couple days ago. Beside that, in a ripped part of the bed, was a small pile of bills. I counted it again- forty-seven dollars. Every once in while Marie, "mother", or father-when he was home- left money laying around the house. Over the past year I had made myself take these bills, collecting them for my future escape. Hopefully it was enough to get me to where I needed to go. With my clothes, food, journal, CD, a few books, and money in my bag, I started the trek downstairs. 

             Bypassing the noisy parts of the old house, I found myself in the kitchen. The T.V. was now accompanied by loud snores, and I knew that "mother" was out cold. Father had left a note last week saying that he was going out of state for a month, so I didn't need to worry about him either. Marie would probably rejoice at my absence. I walked over to the pantry and pulled out two bottles of water, and stuck them into my bag too.  As I looked outside, I saw storm clouds, and decided to risk going to create something to protect me from the rain. I don't go out with "mother" and Marie for errands, so I don't know where any ponchos or umbrellas would be.  

             Back in the kitchen, I open a drawer, and pull out a trash bag. These, I know about after having to clean up after my punishments more often than not. I take the scissors and cut up the sides so that I can move my arms if needed. I also make a hole in the front for my face. Trying it on, I am pleased to see that it fits over my backpack and covers me pretty well. Not the most fashionable, but at least I could avoid getting sick if it took me a while to get to Wil's house. After I leave through the front door, I pull a piece of paper out of my short's pocket. Scrawled onto it is an address, my only hope for the past  year.

                                                                                 1 Year Ago 

               I had managed to sneak outside after being punished for reading in my room instead of cleaning the kitchen. My throat was still slick with lemon and vinegar, burning every time I dared to swallow. I made my way through the trees behind my house to a little clearing. From here, I could see the new diner that had opened. I knew from my previous expeditions that it used to be an old church.  

              People of all kinds came and went, the scene overly colorful to someone like me, who hasn't been in contact with anyone outside of my family since I had talked to the mailman two years ago. That had lead to many punishments and mother moving us from Illinois to here. I hadn't made that mistake again. Sitting on a large rock, I started my people watching. The birds and sunshine lulled me into a peaceful state. One shattered by footsteps crashing through the leaves, coming right at me. I jumped back, hitting  a tree, and a boy around my age appeared from out of the foliage. I heard yells and turned back towards the diner, a very big man was running towards my hiding spot, followed by a laughing woman. I could feel my pulse. A crunch sounded in front of me, and then the boy had me against his body behind the tree, with his hand covering my mouth. I screamed and thrashed around trying to get out of his hold. This was what mother always warned me of. I shouldn't have come here. Now I'm going to die! 

              I finally landed a blow to the boy and he let me go for a second before grabbing my arm. I let out a yelp and my legs fell underneath me. The boy had let go and was looking at me, concerned. 

"I am so sorry! It's just- my brother got mad..." he points to the man still yelling in the parking lot, "and I thought that you would give me away. I really didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?"

            Looking at him now, he was nice looking, with warm brown eyes and hair. His glasses were slipping down his face, probably because of his rush. I didn't really feel threatened but... 

"Are you a murderer?" 

           His eyes widen and he bursts out laughing. He finally gets a hold of himself enough to squeeze out an amused, "No!"  

            I learned that his name was Wil Winchester, and that the man and woman who were chasing him was his sister and her russian boyfriend. Wil promised that the russian was just yelling to yell, and that he was a really loyal guy. He wouldn't hurt family. From that day on, we had met a couple of times in the same spot. It was our hiding spot now. He told me about their drunkard of a father and how this group of men saved he and his sister from that life, with the help of the organization that they worked for. He eventually explained that his sister, Kayli, was with all of these men romantically, and that they were a family now. A chosen family. A different kind of family. 

          Every time we met, there was a new story about how Marc had made the best coffee yet, or about how Corey and Brandon had managed to trick him with their identical twin powers. He never failed to make me laugh. Wil became my best and only friend. As long as he was waiting to talk, I could live through the pain that my mother forced on me. Since we had first met, he had always suspected that something was going on, and I told him when we met for the third time. About all of it. He was teary-eyed as he hugged me tight, apologizing for things he shouldn't have had to. After four months, Wil disappeared. He had come the last time, trying to explain why he had to stop coming for a while, pushing his address into my hand. The next thing I knew, he was gone.

          And here I was. Going to meet him after eight months of no contact. I had to believe in those four months of friendship, of him promising to be there for me. 

         So, I headed out of the neighborhood as it started to pour down rain, preventing the midday sun from shining too brightly. My sneakers were soaked, my feet sloshing in them with each step. But I felt like a weight had been lifted. I was leaving that horrible house, I could finally have my own life. Well, after I figured out a job and a place to live. Even if Wil was willing to take me in, I wasn't going to mooch off of him and his family.

          A rare smile threatens to break my face and then I'm pushed to the ground, my head smacking against the pavement. The last thing I see is worried emerald eyes, before everything goes black. 

So. First ever fanfiction! This idea popped into my head, and I decided that I should try writing about Sang and the boys instead of just reading about them. As previously stated, the Scarab Beetle guys are all Kayli's and Wil is just a friend to Sang. She'll still end up with everyone's favorite group of boys. I would love to hear all of your guys' thoughts so please don't hesitate to comment or message me!