It wasn't until I started reading and found books they wouldn't let us read in school that I discovered you could be insane and happy and have a good life without being like everybody else.
-John Waters

I know Mom's here, at Heaven, but she can't come up on the cliff. Dad, however, is laying next to me with his large hand encasing mine. 

For once I found something as warm as myself. 

"I read once in Bluebeard not to trust a survivor until you know what they did to survive." I say, feeling his thumb against the scar on my palm. "Do you think if people knew what I've done, they'd trust me?" 

"I think...they'd trust you just as much as they did before, but now they'd know not to mess with you. I think they'd trust you yes, but accepting you is different. You have to find the right people." 

"Hey Dad?" I ask. 

"Yeah?" He replies. 

"I thought I did find the right people." 

"What did that boy of yours say?" He asks after a while, guessing why I've been in such a bad mood -so heartbroken. 

"It's funny actually, he said that he wasn't mine." I pause, moving to put my head on my dad's massive shoulder. "He said that we were a mistake, Dad he said we would still be friends, and I'm okay w-with that because I'd rather have a little of him than none at all but I'm also very not okay with that because I think he meant we'd be the kind of strangers that share memories, and know each other's names and favorite colors and glances and quick smiles every once in a while. And I'm scared that eventually I he won't smile at me anymore and I won't remember his favorite color." 

My dad- -who I think is the perfect conversationalist because he knows when to press something and when to let me rant, I got my tendencies from Mom- -sighs deeply and wraps an arm around my shoulders. 

"What is his favorite color anyway?" He asks. 

I bark out a laugh, and shake my head. "Blue." 

Dad hums in reply, thinking. 

Soon I begin to think too, and the familiar, safe sound of his heart beat pulls me right to sleep.

And I don't know if it's because of Dad's being next to me or because of the new medicine but I don't wake up screaming.

I wake up numb.

They must have brought me home, because now I'm in bed and my alarm is going off next to me.

With a groan I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge so I could reach over and slap that stupid thing. 

But then it doesn't stop blaring in my ear.

Frowning I click the button again, but this only makes it louder.

My frustration grows and grows as I fiddle with it, unable to get it to stop until suddenly I snap.

The alarm clock is throw at my wall with such force that it breaks, the glass on it shatters but at least that stupid blaring stopped. 

Huh.

I'll pick it up when I get home.

As usual I slip on a tank top and then a sweatshirt, then my usual jeans and sneakers. I tie my curls up and pick out a new book. I leave through the front door after yelling goodbyes and ride away on my motorcycle. I get to school around the same time, and I pack everything in my locker the same way.

What am I missing?

It feels like I'm missing something.

Once again I skip Home Ed. 

Lunch comes by to fast, for once I'm here before either.

My mind is so busy trying to think of what I forgot that I don't notice the two guys sit down before Lincoln coughs, looking over at me expectantly.

"Huh?" Is the great response I come up with.

"What's gotten your mind in a funk, you're never this quiet." 

I laugh quietly at this, "You guys do get that before you I didn't talk at all. The most I spoke a day was to my parent's or dog, which is saying a lot."

They both look down, as if suddenly ashamed of something.

It makes me frown.

"What's wrong?" Asher, the nice guy, asks.

"I don't know." I shrug, still not looking at him. "It sucks being the ugly, quiet, rude, sarcastic, emotionally unstable, friend that no one wanted, person with the attention span of a fucking gold fish." I pause, knowing I've overdone it and sigh. "I forgot something but I can't remember what I forgot, I just know I've been missing it."

"Well if you don't remember I sure as hell can't help you look for it." Link snorts.

I roll my eyes, "Thanks Weasley, I hadn't thought of that yet."

Asher is staring at me, but I refuse to look up at him and his flushing cheeks. Instead I pull out my escape plan: a book.

In gym I'm still reading, but glance up to find Mason spitting things into Asher's face, making my anger only grow. 

Putting my book down with a sigh I step between them, my sharp teeth shown as I snarl. "Stay away from him." 

The jock tenses, closing the distance between before lunging like he was about to hit me. "Not gonna flinch?" He asks, voice dripping in disgust. "Such a freak." 

"You think you're intimidating? You think you're scary?" I sneer, leaning forward. Despite my height, and completely non scary features Mason steps back. He's the one who's afraid. "I've met scary, and you ain't got his smile."

Mason looks up at Asher before back down at me, a wide smirk coming to his face.

"How lucky he is," This fucking idiot quips, as if he's amused by this whole thing. "To have a friend like you on their side. Honestly, this whole performance is flawless, really. Moved me to tears. But tell me -does he know what happened five years ago?"  

Then his hand lands on my wrist, squeezing. 

This time I do flinch.

My fist connects with the asshole's nose before I know I'm doing it and a loud snap rings out.

"Oh no!" I squeak, grabbing Mason's arm so he doesn't fall flat onto his ass. "I didn't mean to punch you. You scared me. I'm-" 

The apology I had prepared was cut short as I'm slapped back, sending my head to the side and the arm is ripped from my grip. 

Tears pop into my eyes but I control them and look back to Mason, who is clutching his face. "You'll pay for this, bitch." He snarls, then storms away.

I feel like my life is a TV show or something, because a lot of people, obviously this includes me, is storming away rather dramatically lately.

"Thanks." Asher breaths behind me, reminding me why I just did that in the first place. "You didn't have to."

He said that like a fact.

So I laughed, I turned and laughed right in his face but I swear it was one of the saddest things I've ever heard when I looked up and said, "I wish that were true."

"We need to talk Liza." Gold presses on, hand resting gently on my side as mint green eyes examine my face. "Does it hurt?"

My breath catches in my throat at this, he didn't call me Eliza, or Blue or Elle. He called me Liza.

Nobody has ever called me that.

"I'm fine, no pain." I lie, feeling as the emotion seems to drain from me. "Talk where? About what?"

"Just -We need to. Okay? My place, come over any time after school. I can pick you up." 

"Sure...but our places are only half an hour away from one another. I want to walk." I say, narrowing my eyes up at him. "I'll just meet you there."

"No." Asher's offer stands strong. "I'll pick you up. Link will come."

I shrug, tilting my head.

Not my problem if his feet get sore.

I lied to myself when I said I'd pick it up when I got home.

The glass, the broken pieces of my alarm clock lay in the corner of my room as I lay on my bed.

That reminds me -now I need a new one.

Should I tell my parents?

After I clean, yeah.

Dad will worry too much, and Mom will scold me if she knows I just let broken glass be scattered around my floor.

I don't want to do anything.

I don't want to sing, read, eat, talk, walk, sleep, socialize.

And I'm so fucking tired, but I'm getting sleep.

But I wan't to do something.

What am I missing?

A knock comes on my door, and I don't answer it. 

"Blue?" I still don't answer, but groan as Asher opens door letting light stream into my previously dark room.

"Careful." I say. "There's glass everywhere."

He flicks my light on, and I surprise myself by flinching when I see his large frame.

Gold's the nice guy, he'd never hurt me.

I can always control my flinching, and I haven't been this jumpy in years, haven't been this numb in years.

Must be that new medicine.

"Why is there glass everywhere?" Link asks, walking in a second later.

"Broke something." I mutter, rubbing my tired eyes. "Let's go."

We're walking down the sidewalk when Link suddenly grabs Asher and shoved him into the random alley. 

I blink, utterly astonished.

Someone's in a bad mood today.

"Hey!" The nice guy screams, now laying in a jumbled mess. "What the-"

"It's your foster parents." Lincoln snaps. "The didn't see you, but we need to go."

My mind reels.

He's adopted?

If he has foster parents why does he live alone?

Why are they avoiding them?

I yelp as I'm pulled into the alley too, my body caged under Asher's and him and Link face away from the street and see to dissolve into the shadows.

He's protecting me from sight.

A few very tense, very confusing minutes pass before either males move.

In that moment I don't think I've ever felt smaller, or more insignificant.

"What the fuck is happening?" I whisper. I don't know why I'm whispering, it just feels like a whispering moment.

They look at each other, shrug, then start walking away like nothing happened.

Actors.

Tsk.

"Seriously you guys. Tell me what-" I yelp in pain as I'm suddenly yanked backwards by my hair, the loose ponytail falling out as a fist clenches into my curls. 

"Son," A voice sneers. "I got your bitch."

Asher whips around, blanches and stares at me with horror stricken eyes.

Lincoln has never looked scarier.

"Now I may be a bitch, but I'm not anyone's bitch. Get your fucking hands off me." I growl, elbowing the man in the throat.

I'm dropped, and instantly shoot away.

Despite how fast I can move, a hand wraps around my wrist anyway. "Nuh-uh. You're my leverage, whore."

I snort, smirking at him. "Must be real desperate aren't you."

So confused.

Who is this shit head?

Why did he grab me, hurt me?

He called Asher son.

The second I realize that I piece it together, he's the foster parent.

And he has a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

He has scars, ones from things burning into his skin.

I hate heat.

The nice guy is staring at the cancer stick like it's about to jump and bite, and tears wield around those mint green orbs.

Red tinges on the edges of my vision and I feel my body stiffen as they begin to shout at each other, Asher grabs my other wrist.

Reality hits me like a train, and suddenly I can hear again.

"If my son is the one who's supposed to protect you you should run little girl." The man sneers at me, my deadly blue eyes snap to him. "Do you run girl?"

My canines are exposed and I see something flash behind his eyes, "Yes." I growl. It sounded like my dad again. "Out of fucks, patience and money."

"We don't need to start something." The golden boy reasons, his voice quivering. "Just let her go."

I am not the one he should be worried about.

"Yes we do. You're my son you need to-"

"You're son?" I snarl, clenching my fists as those hazel eyes snap down to me. "As far as I'm aware he's not anyone's son. And parents don't do this."

Before anyone could blink I rip my wrist out of Asher's hand, snatch the cigarette from between the man's teeth and bring it down to his neck.

The man, this abusive dick, screams in pain and releases me to clutch at the stick stuck to his burnt skin.

"Bulls eye." I spit, knowing I got in around the same spot he burned Asher. 

I step up to the man until our chests were inches apart. 

He's only around 5'10 and plump, but that doesn't stop my short 5'1 ass from intimidating the hell out of him as I obviously had no problem hurting the man like that.

"Now," I wipe my hands. "Unless you wish for your throat area to be better acquainted with my partially oxidized tool of slicing purposes, I suggest you refrain from actively utilizing your vocal cords and remove yourself from the premises." I snarl out. "Or, in simpler words in case your small brain can't comprehend what I am saying, shut the fuck up  and leave before I slice you with a rusty knife."

The man turns and runs- -waddles his fat ass- -away.

And no sooner from when I look down, see the red mark across the top of my hand where I accidentally burned myself with the cigarette, do I promptly collapse.

Fuck. I think. And I still don't know what happened.