Y/N P.O.V:

"You're a disgrace to this family Y/N, a disgrace I say!" my mother screamed at me, the look of hate filled her eyes.

I looked at my mother, shame on facue with anger plastered over it. Slowly, I felt my eyes begin to burn as tears escaped out from under my waterline.

"I'm s-so sorry I disappointed you for so long m-mom.." I apologized through tears, but instead of an acceptance, a slap to the face was earned instead. My cheeks grew hot and my boiling blood surfaced from under the skin. I turned around crying harder and went to my room to grab the last of my things.

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I had only one thing remaining in my room that was to be packed.

Family photo.

I stared at it endlessly and picked it up, hesitantly grasping it in between my fingers. My nails grinded against the glass covering, creating a sharp, ear piercing screetch. I proceeded back downstairs and through the living room to find my father on the couch with a beer bottle in hand. He looked half awake and half asleep, but once he realized my presence he attempted rising up. But he was so drunk that he couldn't muster to balance his own weight for much, so he wobbled backwards and back onto couch, mumbling my name weakly. I ignored him as I dragged my suitcase and backpack further towards the door. My mother was in the kitchen, cigarette in hand, rolling her eyes.

"Leave" she demanded harshly. When I didn't move, hwr mad expression worsened.

"I said 'GET THE FUCK OUT'! ARE YOU DEAF YOU SON OF A BITCH?!" she yelled louder, slamming her hands down on the table. I heard her raspy voice growl, indicating she was beyond 'the pissed off' stage.

I sighed, tears still falling everywhere on the floor, and eventually unlocked the door, not grabbing my keys to here.

They won't be needing me back.

I turned the knob hesitantly, and slowly swung the door open before stepping out. I turned to face my parents one last time.

"I-I love you, and I'm sorry.."

"Fuck you" my mom replied aggressively, forcing even more tears out of my eyes. I slammed the door shut behind me and ran down the street.

The sign read "Front St". This is tbe only place I feel moderately safe or cared for at anytime. I scanned the adress that belonged to a familliar house and before approacing it, I wiped my eyes. I picked the picture up from my hands and looked at it. I was about 6 in that photo, but what I just experienced now is not much change from when I was that age. In anger and confusion, I threw the picture on the concrete, the sound of glass shattering echoed down the block in it's usual peaceful silence. As if that wasn't enough, I repetitively dug the heel of my boot into the frame and picture, destroying every last piece I could manage. I started screaming "why" at the top of my lungs over and over again.

"Y/N?" a male voice cooed from the door softly, but it was no distraction for my emotions in the moment, so I continued on stomping on the picture
I heard the footsteps approach the front deck and down towards me, but I still continued until arms we're wrapped around my body, trying to stop me. Attemping to struggle from his grip, I balled my eyes out even more. I eventually failed and gavw up, hanging my head weight on his arm. He stroked my hair and whispered "sh" quietly at the same time.

"M-Mark.." I croaked out weakly, my voice had grown nearly soundless, that I was surprised to hear Mark's response.

"Yes Y/N?" he replied sweetly. I propped my head up slightly and Mark cupped my face to see my bloodied eyebrow, black eye and red face. His mouth widened in shock and he frowned soon after, hugging me closer to his body. I cried hard into his chest, still I felt his hands supporting my neck upwards.

"Let's go inside okay? I wanna help you".

I nodded in response and suddenly, he picked me up into his arms and carried my weight through the front door effortlessly.

Once I was brought inside, he plopped me gently on the couch and caressed my face. I winced slightly at the touch of his fingers even though they we're soft and gentle.

"Wait here, okay? I'm gonna get something to clean you up. Don't move" my best friend told me.

Bitch I ain't got nowhere to go, I won't move a limb barely.

After he left the room, he returned almost immediately with some cleaning products and q-tips. Mark set it up on the small coffee table and scooted close to my, dabbing the cleanser peroxide on my eyebrow wound. I let out a moan of pain considering it stung badly, and he stopped for a moment.

"Y/N, are you gonnabe okay with this?" he asked politely, concern taking over his eyes.

"Just keep going, I- I can take it.." I lied, even though it hurt, it had to be done eventually. So he continued, and it was painful, forcing me to scream slightly. But once it was done, a rush of relief sent throughout my body. I sighed and closed my eyes slightly.

"Did they.." Mark's voice startled me slightly as I began drifting off to sleep. I weakly shot up from my seat, and groaned once I realized the pain of the burn from my mom's cigarette returned. I whimpered and nearly fell face first on the coffee table. Mark caught me and saw I was holding my upper right side. Making me blush, he lifted my shirt up slightly to where he could see my bra and gasped when his eyes caught the burn wound. His fingers brushed over the irritated skin and I yelped in pain, causing him to move his hand away. He got a scar healing ointment cream and gently rubbed it over the burn.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks.."

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Omg hei ther sorry this sucks I'll do better