(A/N: think of this as a flashback and think of them speaking in French. Google translate is not accurate so I decided against it. 😛)

"Hold him down! Hold him down, and get his legs!" They shouted as they dragged him through the empty courtyard. There were four boys around him. Two of them had his legs while the others stood back and laughed as he cried out in pain. The ground was like sandpaper against the soft skin on his stomach and arms, an he could feel the skin ripping every time they pulled him.

"Stop!" He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut. "Please stop!"

They stopped abruptly in the middle of the courtyard, and the two boys that handled his legs let him go.

"Look at him," John smirked, kicking him in his side. "How pathetic he is."

"Really pathetic," Rod scoffed. "Why don't you defend yourself, you little bitch?"

Laurent sat up slowly, looking down at his stomach and ripped shirt. He had marks running up and down his abdomen, and blood dripped from all of them. It was a stinging, agonizing pain, and it made the stream of tears fall faster.

"Please," he begged looking up at them. "Please I do nothing to you, nothing. I just want go home."

A boy who's name was unknown kneeled down beside Laurent and he spat in his face, punching him in the side of the head afterwards. Laurent toppled over quickly and he held his head. The only sound he could hear was the ringing that emitted from the impact. It was a cold, burning pain this time and he could feel warm liquid leaking from his ear. It was blood.

He turned on his stomach fully, and his eyes met a pair of familiar shoes. He looked up slowly and he came face to face with Larry, a sob leaving his lips.

"Larry," he cried, his voice breaking immensely. "Why you do this to me? With them? I your brother!"

"No, you freak. We never brothers," Larry said coldly before the toe of his shoe connected with Laurent's face. Laurent yelped and he turned over on his back, holding his nose. Larry, John, Rod, and the other boy took turns hitting him and kicking him, making sure to leave no spot untouched. Laurent couldn't even cry anymore, all the pain he was feeling was becoming too much for him. He just laid there and took it with soundless tears running down his face. Larry looked down at him, examining his bloodied and beaten face. Something stabbed at his heart and he immediately felt guilty.

"Okie guys," he said. "This enough. Leave him."

The three boys stopped and they stood up, looking at their work proudly.

"How can you be related to this bitch?" John asked. "And be twins? I'd hate to look like him."

"I don't know," Larry said, shrugging dryly. "But we go now. Before someone comes."

The three of them nodded and they followed Larry out of the courtyard, laughs erupting from them.

Laurent could feel himself slipping away from reality, and he prayed to God that this would be the day that he died.

-

"Where the hell have you been?" His mom shouted as he dragged himself into the house. He closed the door behind him and he looked at her, sighing.

"I fell," he mumbled. There was no point in telling them what Larry and the other boys did to him. Even with all the proof hanging on his body, they'd never believe him. They'd always take Larry's side. He never mattered to them.

"You stupid child!" She shouted walking over to him. "Go to your father! He'll take care of you."

Laurent's heart began to pound against his ribcage and he slowly made his way up the steps, dreading the sound of his father laughing. At least he started off in a good mood, then the hits wouldn't be as hard.

He knocked on his father's door softly once he reached the top, looking down at his feet as he did.

The door swung open and he was met with a scowling face, his father's eyes looked him up and down.

"What do you want, boy?" He asked gruffly.

"Mom want me come to you because I fell," Laurent said quietly, earning a groan from his father.

"I'm going to kill you boy," his father yelled. "Every time you come, you say you fall! What the hell is wrong with you? You fucking child."

"I s-sorry, I-"

Laurent was cut off by his father's fist connecting with his jaw, sending him flying back into the wall. Laurent held his jaw carefully and hot tears began to pour out of his eyes as he looked up at his father.

"Don't fall next time, you," his father spat. "You disgrace of a son."

He slammed the door and Laurent got up slowly, knowing that if he stayed there, he'd get it far worse.

He dragged himself to the bathroom and he shut the door behind him, looking at himself in the mirror. He had marks running up and down his body, a busted up face, and blood nearly everywhere on his body.

"Just kill me," he sobbed, looking up at the ceiling. "Just kill me please. I tired of this. My family. I tired of it all."

He sat down on the toilet, and he folded his hands, more tears running down his face.

"Give me something," he cried quietly. "I don't want to feel this anymore."

Then it happened. He felt it. It was the strongest feeling he had gotten in his life. He could feel his insides burning, with rage, and his arms and legs began to shake. He shut his eyes and he began to breathe heavier, and all of the pain that he was feeling had dispersed in a matter of seconds. He had never been so angry in his life, but it felt good. Slowly, he stood up and he opened up the cabinets, reaching for his father's scissors. He grabbed them tightly and he opened the door quickly, the anger growing in the pit of him. He walked down to his father's door slowly, his face twitching eerily.

He pounded on the door, not caring whether or not his father would be mad. When the door swung open, his father looked St him wide-eyed.

"What the hell are you - AGH!"

Laurent had jammed the scissors in his neck before his father could finish his sentence and he twisted them inside his neck, a smirk growing on his face. He then yanked them out, watching his father's body fall to the ground. He turned away from the door and he headed downstairs, his mother next on the list. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw her standing with her back turned to him, using the stove.

He creeped over to her, careful not to make a sound. Once he reached her, he didn't hesitate to ram the scissors into her back, puncturing her heart. A gurgled cry left her lips and she fell into him, to which he just let her fall. He saw Larry from the corner of his eyes and he turned to him. Larry had in his headphones and he was bumping to his music, oblivious to the fact that he was third on Laurent's list.

Larry saw two shoes in front of him and paused his music, frowning. He looked up and he screamed, backing up into the couch. His eyes caught a glimpse of his mother's body and he cried out, looking back at Laurent

"What did you do, Laurent?!" He screamed.

"You my brother," Laurent said lowly. "You supposed be there for me, defend me, when I need you. You supposed to help me. But instead, you kick me, hit me, make me bleed, like rest of them."

Laurent opened his scissors and he leaned over Larry, who was visibly shaking.

"I don't want to do it," he sighed, tears pouring out of his eyes. "But then you didn't want to, and you did."

He lifted the scissors and he swiped them across his brothers neck, watching the blood spill out of him.

"So I be like you now. I do it anyway."

That was the day that Laurent was last seen in Sarcelles, France. He ran away and booked a one way ticket to the U.S. He expected the feeling to go away soon, but it didn't. He still had the urge to hurt people, get revenge on them. And so he plotted, and his list grew longer and longer by the day.

☯

Laurent sat up on his bed, staring at the blank white wall. He had been in that position for the whole day. He hadn't moved, hadn't said anything, and every tray Alana would bring him, he didn't touch it. She listened to him, which was he last thing he wanted her to do. She hadn't spoken to him and three days. Whenever she brought his breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she'd crack the door and push it inside before shutting it quickly. It was really killing him. He had been having numerous flashbacks of the things that happened in his past, and he could feel his anger coming back, growing again.

It's like when she was around, she... calmed him. He wasn't as angry when he saw her. He was at ease, even though he still had urges to harm her. He never went through with them though, and he confirmed to himself that he needed her. He hated the way he was. He hated the fact that he was now stuck in his facility with all of these other mental patients and he couldn't even see his girl. He missed her. She was like his fix. He hadn't felt like that about anyone in years. He wanted to be in her company all the time. He liked her. A lot. And all he wanted to do was go to her and hug her, and kiss her, and make her feel safe with him.

He didn't like feeling this way. It made him feel weak. He already let her in by telling her what happened with his family. He didn't tell her about what he did, though. Nobody ever found the person who did it, so he left that part unsaid. They just had a funeral, with no justice. And that's what he wanted. He had absolutely no remorse from them. That night he killed them, that was the first time he felt a feeling a strong as that. And he enjoyed it for years and years, loving it when people were afraid of him. Now, he just wanted it to go away. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to be nice. He wanted his baby.

He only had a few people left on his list, though. The doctor, and Matthew. That's what pissed him off. He didn't know whether or not Matthew had tried anything again in their time apart. The only time he got see a part of her was when she brought his tray. He could see her small hand placing it down. He wondered if Matthew even touched her hand during their time apart.

Laurent stood from his bed and he paced the floor, the feeling of emptiness overcoming him. He counted, and he knew it was almost time for Alana to take his tray away. He left it a little far from the door, so she would be forced to come inside and get it. He hadn't been eating a lot, and he could feel himself losing weight. He didn't care though.

He stopped pacing when he heard his door open and he turned his head towards it, watching as Alana's small hand, reached for the tray that wasn't there. He could tell she was hesitant about coming in, but she did anyways, her small figure coming into view. She avoided his eyes and she looked down at the tray, bending down to pick it up.

"Why haven't you been eating?" She asked sternly, her eyes locked on the tray.

"I don't want to," he said hoarsely, shrugging a bit. He watched as she set the tray on his bed, leaving it for him to finish. She went to leave but Laurent stopped her.

"Chéri," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. She stopped and she stood in her spot, waiting for him to speak.

"I hate to say it, I really do," he started. "But I need you."

"No you don't," she muttered.

"I do," he said, taking a few steps towards her. "The past few days, I've been angrier than I've ever been. I have flashbacks of my family. Of things that happen to me in the past. I been miserable. Whenever you around, you make it go away."

He was now standing directly behind her, and he reached up, pushing the door lightly until it closed.

"I miss you, belle," he whispered.

She turned around slowly and she looked up at him, blinking slowly. He smiled a little as he stared into her eyes, the eyes that he wanted to see every time he closed his own.

"Why?"

"You calm me," he admitted. "When I'm with you, my anger..it goes away a little."

"No, Laurent," she said. "You're confusing, and I couldn't help but wonder if you're someone I really want to have feelings for. The first day I met you, you said I should be afraid of you. The second day, you damn near killed me. Any other day after that you were venting to me. Then you kiss me, you turn me on and make me want you, you make me feel like I can actually like you then you push me away. I'm sorry, Laurent, but I don't want to -"

Laurent pressed his lips into hers before she had the chance to finish her sentence, and his arms wound around her waist. Her small arms wound around his neck, and he pulled her close, kissing her passionately. He picked her up carefully and he carried her to his bed, lying her down softly.

"You miss me too," he said as he began to kiss her jaw, then her neck. "Don't you?"

"Yes I do," she sighed softly, shutting her eyes. "I miss you so much."

"You can have me baby," he said softly. "I promise I'm all yours."

☯

Stay tuned for the next chapter, you're gonna love it 😏 x Rose.