Just another Saturday morning, as I prepare myself to go out for my morning jog. It's the only real way I can clear my messed up mind so that I may relax and think about my life problems. After tying my brown lion mane of hair that reaches just above my boney shoulders into a short ponytail, I race my long slender body down the red wooden, creaky stairs. The moment I reach for the door knob, I feel a jolt of electricity hit my back. Zap! I collapse to the floor losing the abilities of my legs. My mother, Irva, zapped me with a freakin' taser.

I groan in agony. "What the hell?!" I yelled in slight disbelief. I am not very surprised that she tried to hurt me in some way. Using a taser was a new one, she is starting to get creative with her abuse. Irva is always causing me physical and emotional pain, but somehow I'm not too mentally unstable. Sadly, I don't seem to bruise or scar very easily and I never have the evidence of abuse. Even if I did have evidence I would rather just live with the pain, because it's less complicated for me.

Short Irva towers over me, glaring at me with her black beady eyes. She reminds me of a crow, well, an evil crow that will not think twice about pecking my eyes out. The only way she is ever taller than me is by knocking me down. "Where do you think you're going, brat?" she spats, venom laced within her words.

I push myself off the filthy floor and dust off my bright green shorts and neon yellow tank top. I, again, reach for the door knob, ignoring Irva completely. Irva grips my wrist and tasers me in the side. Luckily, I saw it coming. I stayed balanced on my feet and endured the sting. I turn my head slowly toward Irva with my eyes dark as the night sky, threatening her quietly to release me from her claws promising if she doesn't she will see the Devil tonight. Irva reluctantly releases her grip, which left a red mark that quickly receded. Due to her rage, she holds her breathe and burns red, resembling a hot air balloon. I am sure her head is only filled with air.

I am finally able to escape from the imprisonment of this house that I can not even call home. It is more like a prison with a shitty gaurd at its gates. I begin my morning jog, picking my long legs up. My thoughts swim around in my mind, thinking about how this is my senior year in high school and my last year with terrible Irva. But then I lead myself to think that this might be the last year that I will have my high school friends around. No more abuse. But no more school. No more insults. But no more friendly smiles. No more family. But no more friends. It doesn't take a genius to know that attending college is more important than friendship. But to me, I could care less about getting an education. After all I've been through, only my friends were able to keep me from collapsing in my unescspable hell.

I pound my feet on the hot concrete, i can here my fast heartbeat pumping in my ears with every step I take. I'm running like I'm trying to get away from something. Something that will cause me pain. I close my eyes, feeling the wind whip my clothes back and forth across my body. I tense my muscles as I gradually run faster and faster and faster until...

I find myself on the floor, again. The second time today and the day is still young. This time there's grass in my mouth and dirt in my teeth, my face throbs in pain. "You know I was calling your name so you knew this was coming," a boisterous, familiar voice rang in my ears. I flipped myself over, belly up, to see the culprit whom ended my satisfying run.

I rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. One of my best friends, Susan, with long strawberry-blonde hair that shimmers like diamonds in the sunlight, and hazel eyes shielded by her cheap glasses. She stood at my feet wearing a basketball shirt and light colored jeans. She was the spitting image of a beautiful tom-boy, she is only slightly shorter than me, so I don't feel abnormally tall around her.

"Sue!" I exclaimed. While picking myself up for the second time today, I asked Susan why she was here. None of my friends lived close by, they actually all live in the same neighborhood. I live in the worst kind of neighborhood with lots of drug dealers, thieves, and a few molesters.

"I thought maybe you wanted to hang out. I rode here on my bike..." Susan pointed to her red bike laying on the sidewalk.

"You rode here on your bike? That would have taken you an hour to get here. Why such a need to hang out? It's dangerous here," I questioned, leery.

Susan stomped her foot on the ground. I flinched. "I HATE you being here away from me and away from my protection. Just come with me, back to my house. We can do whatever you want and you can sleepover for the weekend," she insisted.

I scratched at my head reluctantly. Irva would be furious, but she would be furious anyway. I don't want to take the chance of being abused again and i do need to do my homework, which needs a computer that I don't have. That settles it. I locks eyes with Susan, dark and light battling each other, and I nod. Susan does a tiny fist pump in celebration. She picks up her bike and hops on. I quickly climb onto the poles that protrude from the wheels and cling onto Susan's shoulders. We start heading toward Shady Oaks, where Susan and all of my friends live.

~~~~~~~~~~

After about an hour riding on Susan's strong mountain bike, we arrived at Shady Oaks. The name was befitting for the neighborhood with large oak trees sitting on every corner, casting shadows over the sidewalks and streets. Susan stopped in front of her small, beige, brick house with a basketball hoop in the driveway. We both jumped off the bike and headed towards the front door. Susan opened the door and we walked into a welcoming house that smells of pine. The pine scented candles keeping the house smelling like a forest.

Susan and I kick off our shoes as Susan yells that she's back. The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen catches my attention. I look to see a tall, slender women with a bun of strawberry hair bunched up on her head begin to appear around the corner. "Welcome back!" She greets Susan. Her light hazel eyes lock onto me and she leans onto the wall in amusement, "I am glad my daughter was able to convince your stubborn self to come and stay over for the weekend. I know that all of us here in the Perez household worry about you when you're at that terrible neighborhood." I shift uncomfortably under her strong gaze. My best friend's mother doesn't know about the crucial situation going on within my house and the reason I came was mostly for a place of sanctuary.

"Thanks for having me Mrs. Perez," I nod my head respectfully toward the taller version of my friend.

I follow Susan down the hall and we turn into a room at the end of the hall. It's Susan's room, it has a small twin bed with black and grey covers resting in the corner, a door that leads to a small closet, and a small wooden desk with papers scattered on top of it. An old fashioned desktop computer noisily breathes upon the desk like a sleeping monster waiting to be awakened.

Susan sits on her bed and instantly takes off her basketball shirt off, revealing her sports bra that covers her large breasts. For being such a tom-boy she was given the most perfect body. I am extremely jealous with my sad excuse for breasts, I am a meer twig compared to her. I have little to no cleavage, no stomach, no curves, and no special features. My disheveled dark brown hair falls over my head like a mop and can not be tamed by any brush.

Suddenly, the door is slammed open and a small girl launches herself toward me. Her hair is an unusual silver color that flows around her petite shoulders. Her hair color is natural and doctors say it is an extraordinary mutation in her genes. "I missed you, Shane," cried the small girl. She looked up at me with the same eyes and face that she shares with her sister, Susan.

I comb my long fingers through her silky hair, "I'm here now, Molly." Molly's eyes begin to tear up making me ball her up and hold her closer on my lap.

"I was so scared. I didn't know if you would come back safe. I don't want you to be hurt. I love you," Molly cries out. Molly and Susan know about the abusive family I have, but they were both sworn to secrecy. I don't want to complicate the situation and would rather just wait until I can move away.

Susan gets closer to both Molly and I and places a reassuring hand on Molly's head. Molly stares at her older sister with a sniffle. Her hands wrap around her neck and cling there as Susan gets up and lays on the bed with her still hanging on her neck.

"What do you wanna do?" Susan asks me. I put my finger to my chin, pretending to be in deep thought.

"Let's call the crew."

~~~~~~~~~~

The doorbell chimes through the house. One of my other friends have arrived. Susan looks out the window of her room to see a red Porsche sitting in the driveway. "Hannah's here!" she chimes. We race to the door to let her in.

We open the door revealing a short, pale girl with crystal blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. She wears a designer red sundress with a white purse draped over her shoulder. Upon seeing her two friends, she smiles from eye to eye and tilts her head a bit, "May I come in?"

Hannah is obviuosly the most girly one out of my grouo of friends and she is the richest. Her father owns a well known pharmacy and her mother is a nurse. They both are hoping Hannah aspires to something great, but the only thing Hannah cares about is going to the beach and going shopping. So there is some tension between her and her parents, especially since she is an only child and all expectations are forced on her.

Outside there is a revving motor, that catches our attention. A young man riding a black motorcycle pulls up the driveway. He pulls off the helmet that covers his head and shakes his head in an attempt to fix his ruffled hair.

He walks up the driveway toward the door, where we stand, waiting. His black hair glistens with the few drops of sweat that shine in the sun. His skin is fairly dark and his eyes a mossy green. He is about the same height as me, but not at all as skinny. He wears a white tank shirt that shows off his arms, which are not buff, but they are definitely not scrawny. His jeans hang dangerously low at his waist, but he happens to quickly pull them up and tighten his belt so they do not fall. He is the spitting image of Jay, the last friend and only boy in our crew.