"So, your story, please spill." Miley says, poking my arm whilst I'm in bed. I rub my eyes and look at her.

"What?" I say.

"Kale, your story? Tell me!!!" she pleads. I touch her hand. I always used to touch my mom's hand when she was nervous. I just sometimes forget Miley's a stranger, but I remember when she pulls her hand away, eyeing me for a minute. Hmm. I pull the blankets over my head and grunt when they're ripped from my side. The sudden cold ripples down my spine, and I twitch in response. It was her turn to touch my arm, and I don't pull away.

"Um, I guess I could say something." I submit, not wanting to drain her spirits. "When I was little, I asked about my dad because back then I didn't know if he was alive. My mom never told me, and my dad wasn't there to say. I had to guess. Well, one day, I asked my mom where daddy was? She said he had died long ago when I was born. I cried for days, I never stopped crying. It was pathetic how much I needed a dad. Older when I found out-"

"No, you're skipping over something." she says, squeezing my arm. How did she know?

"Alright, alright. I searched through mom's room, one day, when she was out. And I found a little, wooden box. It had my name on it, but it wasn't mine. I didn't recognize it. So, I opened it, and I couldn't believe what was inside. It was my um- a necklace my mom had given me. It wasn't supposed to be in that box. That box shouldn't've existed. Anyways I moved it to my room, and mom found out. She pulled me aside and told me to get out then I asked where dad was. Was he even really dead? She said he was alive. So, I moved out." I explain, tears falling.

"What about your dad? What do you think of him now that you've met him?" she asks, innocently.

"I didn't go to him." I admit.

"But he was never there. You didn't want to meet him?"

"No, he didn't want to meet me! He left me! And I-I didn't need him." I say, with a fire in my eyes. I breathe deeply and try to hide what I felt like I had done all those years. She flinches and moves away, nodding.

"Right, I'm sorry." she backpedals. I sigh, quietly.

"No, I shouldn't've yelled." I say, laying back down. I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling. A man barges into the hotel room. He was some-what built, and his eyes were emerald green. I jump out of bed and literally push Miley behind me. She whimpers, but I ignore her as I level my gaze with the stranger.

"What do you want?" I ask, roughly. He laughs, pulling out a blade.

"Don't you want to know who I am?" he asks. I take a deep breath.

"Fine, who are you, and what do you want?" I ask his way.

"Keith, and I want the girl. She owes me." Keith says. Miley grabs my arm.

"You ain't getting my girl." I say. Miley pinches my arm, and I jump, surprised. Keith charges forward and grabs the collar of my shirt. He shakes me a couple times. Out of reflex, I grab his shirt the same way, but I don't shake him.

"Miley, get out of here!" I tell Miley, but as I look around she was already gone. Hmm. Keith knocks me into the wall, and I let out a yelp. The blade he was holding sliced my shoulder, but I hold my grip. He walks us away then slams my head, multiple times, against the wall. I finally fall to the floor.

"Alright, I'm done-I'm done." I mutter, tasting blood in my mouth. He pulls me back up.

"You don't get to be done until I'm done." Keith growls. I realize that I'm probably going to die. Miley runs back into the room, and smacks Keith over the head with something hard. I fall to the ground, harder this time. Miley pulls on my arm, but I hardly feel it.

"Mil-Miley?" I say her name, my hands fumbling around.

"Yes, Kale, I'm here." she stammers.

"Remember when you were afraid I was going to die? My shoulder." I hint.

"Yah." she says, sadly.

"Good." I say, blacking out. The last thing I remember is being dragged to my car and leaving.