So, it was like that. Almost nothing with darkness hate and despair. As you might think that this story would progress with this...maybe it will. If you have your eyes opened long enough you will see what you are missing and miss what you are seeing. As I guide you through this story, pay attenion to me, because I will be everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. Her name was Samantha. Samantha was raised with people who didn't love her, people that thought she was a monstoristy. She, of course, knew this. Samantha had tried running away multiple times but was never able too. She was always caught. So, being the witty girl she was, she thought up a plan; wrote it down on paper, dreamt of it, and even, ate from it's words.

"I will not be tortured by my stay here. I will live freely and only choose what I choose. I do not like being cooped up like an animal while the rest of the world runs around nude and free!" She whispered to herself one night as she lay in her cold bed. "I will escape." She put so much forse into that one little word. She meant it. She wanted it her way. She needed it her way. So that was that, as the lights from the lanterns seeped away under the loom of the sky, Samantha stayed up. Finally, when she heard her parents snores, she got up. Samantha bent over and picked up a crumpled piece of papyrus. The faded words only visable under full moonlight. She opened the gray stained curtains and covered her nose, for the smell coming from the window was putried at best.

There in the moonlight, were the beautiful words she had written. "Yes! At last!" She had to cover her mouth. The words had gotten from the whisper she once potrayed them to be, to small shout. She cursed herself out in a whisper manner and kept talking. "Please read with caution, if you are reading this then you are a superhero. Please except a communicator on the closest full moon. It'll come through your window in the dead of night. Stay awake, and do not allow anyone to read this note. Once read on the full moon out loud your communicator will be transported to you. Tear up once read." Had I said she wrote this note herself? Oh, I am truly sorry. She recieved this short note on a windy and misty Tuesday through the door to her room. The name was covered up in the purest of dark black ink. No sender.

Her window broke. The crystal black fibers touched the floor around her feet making a rather loud crash. A small circular device about the size of her palm fell on the floor. It was painted like Halloween. Black and orange so dark it was disgusting to observe in such light. She grabbed it just as her parents were running into her room screaming at her. "You cursed child! I have half a mind to throw you in the gutter!" Her father cursed.

"Or slice your head off with a steak knife! And feed you to the whites!" Her mother bellowed.

Samantha sat there on the ground frozen staring up at her parents. Her mother was a short woman, much of tumbleweed really, fat too! She had taken anger as her most important weapon. Her hair was pitch black and was always a mess only pulled up by a dagger that Samantha's father had thrown once in his fit of madness. She was scary to look at, with her rough hands that she used most to shock Samantha out of her room, her rough and sandaled feet, the sandels used most to be thrown at Samantha's head. Samantha's father on the other hand was a tall and muscled man. He had blood shot eyes, which he used to stare out Samantha, perfectly washed hands which were also rough, big feet always covered in boots, and as a token, Samantha got to wash the greasy black things he called shirts. He was always beating Samantha with a club if she did not make the food fast enough. Her mother, Loni, turned her head sideways to look at Samantha. She noticed, as quick as noticing a pen drop the floor in complete silence, the communicater in Samantha's small hands. "Release that at once you grimy scum! You already had your dinner!"

Samantha shook her head. "You are awful parensta and do not deserve any right to take away what is mine! You should just go back the way you came and never open your mouths!" She gasped, she had never said such awfully rude things to anyone, let alone her parents! Yes, they hated her, and yes she hated them, but this was like beating a puppy with a stick! And she did not, in the slightest bit, regret it.

Her father, Macin, looked at the communicator and snapped. "You lifeless scum bag! Be rid that of yourself this moment or your life will be shorter then your words!"

Samantha got up, shakely, her knees weak. She grabbed a shard of black glass that had broken from the window, and threw it, point first, at her father. It struck him in the knee, making him lose balance and squirm his way onto the floor. "You are a horrible father! You beat me, ridiculed me, and even killed my pet! You are cursed murders that should burn in the deepest pit of your first home!" She realized her mistake to late. Her mother had gotten the club. The stubbed reins of the club gleamed with colors so unknown to Samantha that she stared when seeing it. Her mother whipped the club in the air. It hit Samantha flat across her face. She bled the blood of a warrior at war. She held her ground, still screaming curses and insults. This was odd... she felt great! Not lady-like at all, like she should've felt. She felt like a warrior in the midst of battle, and she, enjoyed it!

While her mother whipped her with the club, Macin rose and grabbed the shard of broken glass window and threw it at Samantha's face. It struck her ears with a force so strong Samantha fell back into the shard of glass with a look of despair and pain. More struck her. Plenty at her ears. Then all sounds ceased, she couldn't hear the angry screams from her parents. She got up. With so much forse, she kicked her mother straight across the face. Her mother fell back bleeding through her lips and skull. Lady blood seeped through, it was a rosy color unlike the darkness of the warrior blood. Samantha screamed, a loud and multiple toned scream. She did not hear it, she saw it. Circular gray rings starying in and out from her mouth. Her father collapsed when a group of them neared him. She ran. That was all she could think to do. Maybe... she thought, Maybe...

She ran through door after door, stair after stair, room after room looking for an exit. Then she found it. The large mahogany door, the multiple scratches and prints stood out in white. Cocaine. She turned around sharply. She saw a wobbled foot. She opened the door as quick as possible. Samantha grabbed her skirts and ran out of the house, tripping nearly several times. She ran and ran. Then stumbled into someone.

"Please, sir," She looked up, "Please help me away from this horrid place!" She couldn't hear her voice, but she wished that what she wanted to say had come out.

Then three more people. Two more boys and one girl. The male she had stumbled in was young and looked down at her. He looked at the mansion where she had come from. He grabbed her hand and pushed her toward the female. The girl did not wear a gown. Instead she wore trousers, that looked to tight to wear, like a man. Her shirt was one sided and made of dark fabric. She smiled. "Hello, are you Samantha?"

Samantha stared, blinking. What was it that this person had asked? She tried to muster the words she was thinking of. "W-what?" She thought she had asked the right thing. She felt the words on her lips and mustered to say them.

Three boys appeared beside her. One began talking in sign language to her. "Hello, are you Samantha? I'm Jace, this is Morkivo, Mick, and Daisy. We'll get you out of here."

She understood! What a pleasure, though her herself did not understand how to spell in such a language. She nodded. "T-thank you!" She managed to say. She had never known kindness in her life before, and now she was being showed she could trust people. Everyone she was now seeing looked so kind and so willing to do anything to help out someone in need of help. She smiled weakly and started crying.

TO BE CONTINUED...