*default dances onto wattpad*
*looks through stories*
*sees this one*
*default dances into it*
"..maybe I should update"
~~~
Y/N

   I woke to the sound of glass shattering.
   I sat up and looked around.
Whatever that was it's not in my room...
   I rolled out of bed, my feet hit the cold floor of my room. I grabbed a wine bottle I had used for flowers, dumped the contents out onto the floor, laid the flowers on my desk and quietly slunk out of my room.
   I went to the living room.
   I heard furniture being overturned, and more glass breaking.
   I peek around the corner, and look into the living room.
   "Holy shit..." I mumbled. There was a drunk looking man, somewhere in his early thirties.
   He stumbled everywhere, overturning everything and just making a mess.
   His back was to me, and he was in the process of blindly looking through the cabinets gibberish something that sounded like, "Where's... mhmm.. me wallot..?"
   I was at arms length of him, raised the bottle, and smashed into the side of his head.
   There was a clicking sound, and everything went black and white.

You have attacked Jase.

He swings a fist at you, surprisingly strong and agile, for a drunk man.
You dodge, and leap forwards, ramming your foot into his crotch.
A groan of pure agony was emitted from Jase as he slumped to his knees, and you took this moment of weakness to smash the decorative bottle onto his head, knocking him unconscious.
As he fell over, you notice something else fall with him.
It was a switch blade covered in blood.
Mom, Dad.

Time skip five days...

Everyone was dressed in black, and it was a beautiful day outside as the coffins where lowered into the earth next to each other, one at a time.
I winced as mom glared and as dad smiled sadly at me from next to their graves.
Moms orange figure stormed off, dads yellow chasing after her, seemingly trying to comfort her.
   I looked at my feet.
   If I had of woken up earlier... maybe I could've saved them?
   I sighed.
   I had no immediate aunts or uncles, I had been bouncing foster homes for years, and it was now summer vacation.
   And I'm going to spend it with the foster system.
   Hot tears streamed down my face in mini waterfalls.
   I kicked off the stupid black high heels I borrowed from moms closet, and ran as fast as I could.
   I had to get away.
   Away from that graveyard, away from those people.
   Away.
   I ran.

1 month and 17 days later, 9:38 PM.

   I cried.
   I cried a lot since then.
   Every night, actually.
   I couldn't stop. I wasn't even that sad anymore.
   Just empty.
   Completely numb.
   And wide awake.
   And exhausted.
   And hungry.
   I rolled over to face the new friend I had made at my stay, she was a pretty brunette, big green eyes and peach skin. She would've  been a lot prettier, had she not been sick.
   She had a bad case of the flu.
   I flinched when she coughed, her throat dry and sore. She looked hollow and pale, her eyes where red and puffy, and her breathing was getting worse and worse everyday, no matter what medication the caregivers gave her.
The room we shared was pretty big, two beds side by side, separated by a nightstand with a clock on top.
Mint green walls with a white finishing, and dark oak paneled floors complimented the paint job. Our comforters matched, and where patterned with silhouettes of vines.
I rolled over to gaze at the clock.
It was eleven fifty nine.
It was funny, had I rolled over a minute later, it would've been twelve.
I laid on my back and stared at the huge window across from our beds. It took up almost half the wall, and overlooked the starry night sky and showed us the moon.
I sighed, and my eyelids felt like they had each gained five million pounds. I blinked tiredly.
Then I saw a black smudge taint the white moon, but for only a second.
I sat upright, kicked back the comforter, and padded hurriedly to the window.
I looked up at the moon.
The shadow was at most fifty yards away, because, you know, I can perceive depth and stuff to.
It was actually hilarious, because I was pretty certain that shadows don't carry scythes.
I giggled.
"Haha... I am so tired right now."