Chapter 1

"Mum, I'm sorry!" I begged as she started punching me. I had touched one of her books that she had warned not to. A child always has his curiosity.

She punched me in the chest, slapped me on the cheek.

"STOP IT!" I heard a shout from a male voice and recognised who it was. Father had taken my side. "You knew what would happen, Jane" He warned as he produced a couple of short knives. "End it now, or pay the price" He shouts as I looked at him in fear.

"End.....me?" I asked in fear. Why're they doing this? What did I do? Killing me because of touching a book? That's messed up!

He looked at me, and his stone-cold look softened to show some warmth. I never liked him much. He always was the one that gave me the chills whenever I saw him. "No, Mike" he mumbled, softly. "You aren't dying today, son" and he glared at my mother. She was meant to be the nice, kimd woman I'd always known and loved. I never usually thought to disobey her.

A day previous to when I was getting punched, I remembered exactly what had happened.

It was the day right before holidays. My school finally got over and I walked to the house. My friends always went super late to their home because their parents picked them up. I usually used to walk, my parents having not being able to afford the increasing fuel rates.

To my surprise, there had been blood right on the front yard. I sighed. Another attack? This time to this house? Attacking and theft was quite normal these days seeing that the economy of this place was always low. People had to steal from other people and would openly boast about it. Police would also agree to doing this and they would rather assist a person than take him to jail.

I went in and tried the door. It was locked. No surprises there. They never left it open. They feared that they would get attacked and rightfully so. They might have been attacked through some other entrance and while leaving, might have dropped some blood.

A jerk from the door handle brought me straight back into this world. Everyone was not passed out? I let out a relieved breath. I thought I'd have to even break in through a window. This wasn't unnatural to me, having broken into many homes. My parents always forced me to take stuff from other people's stuff and it became a habit. They would whistle encouragingly whenever I stole stuff and act like my real parents would.

My mother would, at least. Father was never like that. Anything I did, all he would do was remain silent and give me the death stare. Mother opened the door, and looked at me. Her face was caked in sweat like she had been fighting, or working out. "Don't ever" she croaked and went into fits of coughing. She was a drug-addict, so she never really struck me as 'ill'

"Never touch my books" she said and immediately passed out. I sighed. I pushed her forward and started walking into the house myself. She would wake up from that and resume her usual activities.