The dew hung onto the outside of the window. Wendalynn tried to focus on the blurred trees. The dew blocked all vision to the outside world. Her hair shuttered lightly from the her mother's open window. She rolled down her window as as far as it would go, which was only half way. A brisk wind shot through the window, and she quickly rolled it up. Small streaks of water took the place of the dew drops on her window. The trees behind it looked a rippling green river, flowing rapidly with the current of her car.
The brief second of cold air made a shiver run up Wendalynn's spine. Her eyes shut as the cold left her body. She let out a shaky breath. She looked up to her mother's seat. All she could see was the back of her mother's blonde head, but she knew her mother's lips were pressed into a fine, white line, her face paling slightly. It was her mother's normal expression now-a-days.
Cassandra Leah Darling was a petite woman. She had never been the brave sort, even when it came to defending her family. But she did what she thought was best for them, and what's best for her. She wanted her family to be happy. She wanted to be happy. Wendalynn knew she deserved to be happy.
Cassandra's late husband died in war. At his funeral, she couldn't bring herself to be strong for her children. She couldn't help but cry. He was her husband and she loved him and he was dead. She
It was Wendalynn who didn't cry.
Seven-year-old Wendalynn stood in front of her father's grave, holding her newborn baby brother and her 5-year-old brother as they cried. She held her mother that night as she sobbed her heart out. It wasn't until everyone had gone to bed, did Wendalynn cry herself.
Cassandra met her daughter's eyes in the mirror, their hazel eyes boring into each others. Wendalynn broke the graze, just before breaking the silence that engulfed them.
"I don't want to go to Philip's house," she said, staring out at the river like trees again. Cassandra sighed.
"I have to go to work. Your brothers have school today. You need to go somewhere," she Cassandra said. Wendalynn groaned.
"Why can't I go to a friends house?" She asked impatiently.
"Dear, you and I both know, no matter how much I love you, that you don't really have any friends," Cassandra answered her pouting daughter.
"There's Donnie," Wendalynn grumbled.
"I told you to stay away from that boy-"
"But why, Mom?"
"He's a senior. I don't trust him," Cassandra said, her teeth grinding together.
"Just because a senior got you pregnant when you were my age doesn't mean Donnie's a bad guy. Just because you screwed up, doesn't mean I will," Wendalynn snapped, jaw clenched.
The small, green Chevrolet pulled into the driveway of the bland white house that belonged to Cassandra's fiance, Philip. Grabbing her bag, Wendalynn pushed open the door. Melodramatically slamming the door, she leaned into the open window near her mother, whose hands were clenched around the wheel, knuckles white. Wendalynn didn't care to notice.
"By the way, I hate Philip." With that, she stormed up to the house, leaving her mother breathless and full of guilt.

The ringing doorbell echoed through the house. Simone Captain's eyes lit up, a smile spread across his face. He leapt up from his lazy position on the couch, calling out to his brother, "I've got it!"
He swung the door open, revealing the angry 16-year-old tennager.
"Wendy Darling, whatever is the matter?" He asked, holding his hand out.
Philip, Simone's brother, and Cassandra had been friends for ages, so when Wendalynn was born, Simone, as an 8-year-old, took the liberty of protecting the girl. The two grew up together.
Even if Wendalynn was in a bad mood, the sight of her life long friend always made her smile.
"Hey, Smee," she mumbled, taking his hand. He pulled her inside.
When Wendalynn was younger, she couldn't pronounce the word "Simone", so she called him "Smee" for short. The nickname had stuck.
"I see life's got you down," he said, flopping onto the couch, putting his hands behind his head. Wendy giggled, the tops of her cheeks turning a light pink.
"I see you're back from college early," she replied.
"You didn't see my car in the driveway?" He asked, sitting up. She sat next to his feet, placing her bag against the side of the brown sofa.
"Smee, hate to break it to you, but you don't have a car." Wendy rolled her eyes playfully. With a dramatic sigh, and a fling of his muscular arms, Simone flung himself back onto the couch. Wendy giggled.
"Wendy, is that you?" Both Wendalynn and Simone stiffened immediately. Wednalynn's back straightened, hands folded. Simone swung his legs onto the ground, giving himself the same posture as Wendalynn.
"Wendy, it is you!" Philip Captain's black haired head poked from the behind a wall leading to the kitchen. Wendalynn forced a smile onto her lips.
She hadn't lied to her mother when she said she hated the man. He was cruel, vile, and mean. He only acted that way when her mother wasn't around. After Wendalynn's 'father' left her mother, and Cassandra's real husband died, she wouldn't listen to Wendalynn's complaints about the man.
Simone knew, of course, of his brother's cruelty. He had grown up with him, after all. He knew that his brother abused his previous wife. He knew his brother abused him and his little sister, to the point where she killed herself. He also knew that his brother had hit Wendalynn on a multitude of occasions, as he did with Marcus and Jonathan, Wendalynn's little brothers.
All the colour had drained from Wendalynn's face. She was never afraid to speak her mind, unless she was around Philip. She was hardly ever afraid in general, unless around Philip. She was a normally chatty person, unless around Philip. She was completely different around Philip. She tried to be perfect, hoping that maybe, this visit, wouldn't result in a bruise and another lie.
"How have you been, Wendy?" Philip asked, smiling and drying his wet hands on a dishtowel.
He was probably washing off the blood of an innocent child. She thought bitterly, though she was forcing a smile.
"I've been fine, Philip. Thank you," she replied.
"And how do you reply?" He asked firmly, the smile not leaving his lips.
"And how are you today Philip?" She replied, pushing the bitterness down her throat.
"I'm great!" Silence.
"I'm...I'm going into the guest room to read," Wendalynn said, standing up.
"Don't forget to do your homework," Philip called.
"I know," she replied.
"Excuse me?" Philip sneered, grabbing her arm.
"Hey," Simone warned, standing up.
"I know, sir." This time the bitterness hadn't been pushed away. She put as much into her voice as she could. She could feel it practically dripping from her mouth as she said those three words.
She yanked her arm away from her soon to be step-father. She stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. She threw her bag onto her bed. Her breath raged from her lungs, coming out choppy and deep. She ran her fingers angrily through her hair. She kicked the desk, before flopping onto the bed. She stared up at the blank white ceiling. She felt the tears brim the edges of her eyes.
What did she do? What did she ever do to deserve any of this? First, she was born to Cassandra when she was 16, the same age as she is now. Her 'father' was some jerk who took advantage of her mother. Then seven years later, her real father, Jackson, died in a shooting, leaving her to take care of her brothers. Then her mother has to go and "fall in love" with the man who had tormented Wendalynn and her brothers since they were born.
It wasn't the worst life she could have had, but she didn't see it getting better anytime soon. She sighed, sitting up. She opened her backpack, pulling out her Harry Potter book. She tried to read, but her mind was elsewhere. With an angry sigh, she pulled her homework from her bag and sat at the desk that lined the on wall of her room.
Maths. she thought to herself This isn't too hard.
Just as she started, a light rapping sound echoed quietly off her bleak white door. She turned in the chair to face the closed door.
"Yes?"
"It'S'mee. Gettit? I'm funny. Come on, laugh," Smee said from the other side. Wendy didn't need to force a smile.
"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, swerving her chair back to it's original position.
"Caaan I come in?" Wendy rolled her eyes.
"Only if you want to be drowned in a sea of teenage girl hormones," she replied. The door opened. Shutting the door behind him, Smee sat on Wendy's bed. Wendy continued on her homework, smiling slightly.
"We should go out," he said out of the blue. Wendy's face immediately flushed, being that she had had a crush on Smee since she was 12.
"What...what do you mean?" she asked, not turning to look at him. He sighed and fell back on her bed.
"I mean, we should out of here. It's boring and I don't like being cooped up," Smee groaned. Wendy giggled.
"I'll ask Philip." Wendy stood, but Smee quickly stopped her.
"No, no, no, no, no. Philip won't let us," Smee said. Wendy thought for a second.
"If you want to go somewhere but you don't want to tell...oh," Wendy's eyes widened as she realized Simone's plans. She quickly shook her head ,"No. No. No! There isn't any way I'm sneaking out. You remember what happened last time." Her voice dropped to a whispered. Usually, the two don't talk about what Philip has done to them in the past, but Wendy needed to get a point across.
"I know, I know. This time, we won't get caught. He thinks you're doing homework and I'm reading! He knows we won't stop for anything. We'll go out for...30 minutes. Just a walk around the woods, please Wendy, I'm bored," Smee pleaded, keeping his grip on her forearm. She looked down before letting out an exasperated breath.
"30 minutes, Smee. No more." Smee grinned.
"Great."

The two walked through the woods behind Philips house.
"I've convinced Philip to let me paint my bedroom," Smee said, hands stuffed in his coat pockets.
"That's cool! What colour are you planning on painting it?" Wendy asked, trying to keep her chattering teeth under control. To say she was cold was an understatement. In the late fall, early winter, everywhere was cold in England. Everywhere was cold and nothing made it better, except hot chocolate.
"I don't know, anything but white." Smee glanced at his friend. "Hey, are you cold? Come here." Smee wrapped his arm around Wendy's shoulders. She smiled. She looked at her watch her eyes widened and she let out a gasp.
"Wendy, what is it?" She turned around and started running back towards the house.
"Wendy!" Smee called after her.
"30 minutes, Smee! You said, 30 minutes! It's been an hour and a half," she quickly added under her breath, "Philip is going to kill me."

Wendy's body was half in her window, half out, when Philip burst through the door. Her eyes widened in fear.
"Smee! Pull me out!" She shouted as Philip's face contorted into anger. He ran towards her as she jumped out the window. He grabbed the back of her jacket, pulling her back in. She let out a scream.
"Wendy! Philip, let her go, this was my fault," Smee said from a few feet below them. Philip simply dragged Wendy inside.
"Sneaking out again, were we?" He sneered, throwing her onto the floor. Tears stung Wendy's eyes.
"Please," she begged ,"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Philip grabbed her hair and pulled her onto her knees. She let out a yelp. She could hear Smee's voice from down below calling out her name. Philip raised his fist above her face.
"Please!" she screamed as the fist came down. She let out a cry as she sprawled across the floor again. Her face was soon wet with salty tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mumbled over and over again. Smee's voice no longer rang from below her window. Philip grabbed Wendy's hair again. He pulled her to her feet.
"You think you're a rebellious teenager, huh? If you're so strong, if you're so cool, then fight back. Fight back!" he shouted at her. She groaned as he hit her in the face again. She stumbled onto her dresser. She watched a few droplets of blood drip onto her Maths homework. How was she going to explain this to her teacher?
She stood up straight, another punch already coming towards her face. She ducked, a quiet shriek leaving her mouth. She rolled across the floor, miscalculating her trajectory, and hit the wall. She scrambled up, a punch already placed in her gut. She doubled over. There was a banging sound on the front door, and a loud "Wendy!"
"Smee," Wendy moaned. Philip grabbed Wendy's hair and dragged her to the living room. He threw her into the coffee table. Her head hit the corner. She winced as she fell to the ground.
She tried pushing herself up with her arms, but to no avail. Her head blared. Her ears buzzed. Her eyesight blurred. She felt a kick in her gut, flipping her onto her back. With another kick, she rolled onto her side.
With every new kick she earned, a word was spoken from Philip's mouth.
"This...ought...to....keep....you...in...order..."
"Stop, please," she begged, almost unable to form the words, "Please. Stop!"
Just then, the door crashed open. It flew off it's hinges, a very angry Simone standing on the other side. The kicking ceased.
Wendy wasn't really sure of what happened next, but the next thing she knew was that Smee's face was inches from hers, bloody.
She felt her body being lifted and seconds later, she was flying towards the wall, face first, a distance voice screaming her name. Then, everything was black.