My eyes opened, in the mind. Again I was just like a spirit, not seen or heard. Instead of it being the childhood I remember, it was a childhood with my sister.

It was like this was erased from my memory. The room was dark, brown covered walls with pure white cribs near the window.

Down the hall was the kitchen, not like the kitchen I grew up with. But, in my preference, I was still a child. The wind was breezy in the house, not anything too violent, it was calm and quiet.

So quiet that you can hear a pin drop outside. In the two cribs, were small babies. Both pure and both us. It was my sister and I.

Liv was so small and pure. Her black curly hair covered her small head. Yet, her little brown eyes can light up a room with the little smile that comes along with it. In my crib, it was just me.

I was small, quiet and just full of hope. Seeing the little fiesty self in my eyes reminded me that this is who I was. I would stop at nothing.

Then there was my father. The man who destroyed my world. My life, my family, my everything. He didn't look so evil right now though.

Stressed, scared, sad, those were the emotions portrayed on his face. As if he cared. The bags under his eyes were big and he hasn't shaved in like forever.

"I love you guys. I may not always be there, but keep it in your hearts that I do." my father confessed.

My mom walked into the room, picking my crib up she started walking out with me. I cried and kicked, wanting my sister back. But, I didn't, my mom drove away with me and that was it.

All those years off bickering were just when my father came over. He wasn't really home, I finally realized that.

Once the front door shut, my father broke down in tears.

"Why me?!" he pleaded," God tell me... WHY ME! BRING MY DAUGHTER BACK! It was a mistake..."

My dad fell to the floor, my sister crying. I wasn't to feel bad for him, but if he really did love me, why is he trying to kill me?

In a flash, years went by. My dad's hatred grew and grew for my mother. That was until he successfully killed my mother. Now that hatred was passed onto me, since i was a product of my mother.

His love for me didn't last that long. The farther I became from my father, the less he cared for me.

Should I kill him? Should I not?

I left their minds.

Ian was next to me as he was waking up as well. Ian grabbed my hands pulling me up. So was my family. Making the final decision, I have to kill them. Throwing my hand out beside me, a sword appeared from my fingertips.

The feeling was cold and hot at the same time. As if you froze your fingers then put them in blazing hot water.

Running towards them, tears left my face. Ian shielded his face as I stabbed my family in the chest. Liv and my father's eyes rolled back in their heads as I just murdered them. Falling to my knees, I cried over them. It was a mix of fiery anger and destructive sadness.

This was a dark moment.

Pulling me up, I continued to cry and kick. The thought of just murdering my family is a thought I don't want to have. Ian sat me down and went over to untie Alec and his family. I put my palms over my eyes and began to wipe my tears off.

Looking forward I can see the blood pooling around them. Their limp limbs were just laying there waiting for me to take it all in.

Maybe they were not the bad guys.

What if I was?

What if I was the one who should have been killed? Moving my head up I saw Rosy, she was bruised and bleeding. Yet, she is happy.

"Hi, Rosy."

She said nothing, all she did was wrap her arms around me, tightly.

"I love you, Aleah."

I wasn't the enemy. I did the right thing, for the poor life of this little girl. This made me happy. Picking up Rosy, she held me tighter. Blood was spread across my clothing and face.

This is the life I live.

Now that the fight is over and I have survived, it is time for the next problem. Not about my powers or of that sort, but of the drama between friends and boyfriends.

This might be a bigger battle than the last.

Even though I'm still upset about the death of my family, I have to get over it. I will just lock those feelings away, like I did to my father divorcing my mother. That is until they come out again, hopefully that day never comes again. They never loved me and never cared. My real family are my friends.