I was six years old when they came to lock my mother up.

I remember before that, though. My mother used to have brown hair and grey eyes. They were very plain, but she was very happy. She was always happy whenever I was with her. There wasn't a time when that would change. She always wore these bright blue sundresses, and in the winter would change into dark green coats and thick jeans. I thought that she was the most beautiful person on the face of the Earth.

She used to pick me up whenever she saw me, giggling as I waved my arms in the air and demanded for more. I felt like I could fly in her arms. I loved it there. She would always tell me that she wasn't as strong as my Dad, that Daddy would pick me up and fly me around the world. I agreed, but also said that she could do that if she wanted to. She just laughed.

"I wish I could, honey," she would say, her thin but comforting voice dropping to a sad tone. But her eyes remained bright. Her eyes were always bright. "But there's so much that you don't know yet.... so much that you have to learn soon." but instead of making sound so sad, and so horrifying, she managed to smile at me. "I wish you never have to know... never have to grow up."

I always agreed. I said I never wanted to grow up, that I wanted to be her and Daddy's little girl forever. I wouldn't care what the world thought as long as I was able to be happy. As long as I was able to be with my parents.

Then father became ill. I don't remember him all that much, except that I had been his treasure. All I remember about him was the faint smell of cologne and the feeling of being protected when he settled me on his lap and read to me. Mother would stand by the side and watch us with this little smile on her face.

Father died. They said it was cancer. A tumor, they said. I never believed them. Father was to strong to catch any diseases. He was the kind who would never die, and help everyone else to immortality.

Mother stopped laughing. She continued to smile, and continued to pick me up whenever I was near, but I knew there was something missing. I would be watching her after she put me to bed, creeping away from the comfort and safety of my blankets to check on her. I was worried.

Every time, I'd see her rocking herself in front of the fireplace, her eyes glazed over with a tiny smile gracing her face. She always smiled. Always and forever, I suppose.

Then she'd cock her head to the side as if listening to something, and nodded every once in a while, still smiling and still rocking herself. There were times when she would start talking too, her thin voice too low for me to make out the words.

They locked her up when I was six.

I had invited my friends from school over to play. My friends always loved her- her tiny smile, her cookies, and her warm hugs. They didn't mind that she usually went to the corner of the room and rocked herself once she saw that we didn't need anything.

But the other adults were terrified of her. They came to a decision after I talked to them once, asking them why they didn't make time for their children like my mother did. They decided that my mother was insane. They locked her up the very next week.

I cried. I hung on to mother for as long as I could, and begged her to not go. I wanted her to disobey everyone else and stay with me. I had the most wonderful mother possible.

And it was at that moment when they came to take her that she kneeled in front of me and brushed my bangs away from my eyes. Keeping a certain distance, she gave me a beautiful smile. Then she gathered my small hands in hers and brought them to her lips. I wept the entire time.

"Be safe, my little fairy." she said softly, and slowly let go of my hands. Without another word, she stood up once again and went with Them. Other parents later on thought that she was inconsiderate, that she should have sobbed and said so much farewells to me, kissing me and clutching me to her.

Mother is not that kind of a person. I understood.

Three months later I learned that she had died on an overdose of pills.

And I knew, she had been smiling to her last moment.

Chapter 1: Friends and Family

My name is Katrina Leon. I am fifteen years old, and have brown hair and grey eyes. My psychiatrist says that I'm stubborn, depressed, and refused to be helped. I told her to kiss my ass. Of course, that didn't go out too well.

But I digress. I'm getting ahead of myself. In reality, I visit my psychiatrist because I hallucinate, and because I'm a cutter. I don't really understand why the hell they say I have a problem. At least half the kids at school has the same problem- most of them even worse. But still, that's because they're taking drugs.

That's something I'm very tempted to tell my aunt. Just so she would get off my case.

I'm a good little girl, though. Really! I have fair grades, hang out with good kids, and have a very normal social life. So I like to let blood flow once in a while. Got a problem with that? So I can sometimes see people's pasts and their dirty little secrets. Let me tell you, if you think that's wild, you haven't ever talked to someone high on Esctasy.

You want to lock up someone crazy? Take my cousin. Now he's crazy. I've never seen a guy be so chipper in my life. I swear, if he weren't such a goody-two-shoes, I'd have throught that he was taking speed or adrenaline. I mean it. He has more energy than his younger brother, who's a four year old ball of doom.

"Katrina!"

Ahh, my ever cheerful cousin has found me. I wonder if I should answer...? Would that give him an excuse to bug me, or would that satisfy his short attention span? Maybe he won't find me?

"Kat-! Oh! There you are!"

No such luck.

I look up from my origami. He was standing in my doorway, looking more than a little frazzled with his brilliant black hair and his bright green eyes. My god, he's so pale. It's not as if he never goes out in the sun- that's where he spends most of the day, being a track runner. He's the kind that has those fragile features that make him look years younger than he really was (he's sixteen, just a little older than me. But I swear I feel ancient when I stand next to him) and the kind of pale skin that any girl would kill for.

What I wouldn't do to have his looks. And he doesn't even know it!

Reaching a hand up to pull out the lollipop I had in my mouth, I gave him a glare. He just grinned at me.

Of well, at least he hasn't stepped into my room yet.

"Mom says that she has to talk to you. Your psychiatrist is ready to hand in her resignation. What did you do this time?" Jove asked. He was hopping from foot to foot, hands on his head to secure the black baseball cap that he had on.

I threw my origami flower down in disguist. But inside, I was smirking. I knew that Jove wouldn't tell Aunt Selene anything that I say. It's something that we trust about each other. "Great. Tell a lady to go take a piss and this is what I get? Adults have no tolerance."

He chuckled lowly from where he was, and shook his head at me. "You really are a jewel, Kat. I wish I would say things as easy as you can."

I just laughed and flipped over on my bed, then sat up and stretched. Stifling a yawn, I managed out, "No doubt your girlfriend will be the type for piercings and tattoos. Making an impact, huh? I'd have to consider that."

He laughed alongside me. "I don't think I'd be getting a girlfriend. All about the stamina, eh?" He winked. "And who can keep up with me?"

I swatted him on the head as I walked down the stairs, mocking glaring at him. That's the good thing about being taller than he is- although he's damn well so fun to be around. Jove was so unlike the immature guys at my school. He could joke around with almost any topic, and not give a damn about the reputation that it gave him. He was wrong when he said he couldn't say things as easy as I could. He could say them even better, considering that he talked without thinking.

And it was Aunt Selene who awaited me in the kitchen, her face pale and smeared with makeup. Unlike her son, her paleness made her look like a ghost and not an etheral being- her makeup being too thick and turning her skin into a dull yellow when she rubbed it off. She looked different than Jove, different than me. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, I had been ready to classify her as a ditz when I first met her. Of course, that all changed in time.

"Katrina Lewis Leon." Her voice was stern, and she pushed herself away from the dining table, letting me know with her eyes that I was in big trouble. Her voice was thick and fine like velvet, a deep tener that was husky enough to attract many males to her despite her looks. "Dr. Philips has called. She says that she is making no progress with you and that you insist on acting like a deliquint."

I shrugged from where I was, my feet frozen to the ground. It wasn't as if I didn't give a damn what she felt- I did. She scared me when she was in this state, whether she knew it or not. It's just that I didn't like to let that show.

"You never listen to me, Katrina." Aunt Selene insisted, glaring at me with her baby blue eyes. "Why do you not listen to me? Ever since your mother died, I have taken you in and reared you like my own child. I have never refused you anything that I wouldn't refuse Jove or Peter. I did everything I could for you. Yet you still will not listen to me."

Mentally, I cringed. Physically, I stood stock still.

"Everything that I'm doing for you right now takes money," she insisted, not stopping in her rant. "Money's no problem in my case, but if you don't listen, even money can't help you get better. I care about you, Katrina. I'm willing to put my career at stake for all the meetings that your psychiatrists requires of me. But Dr. Philips said that you are not only hallucinating, you are also cutting yourself!"

Oh, OUCH. That shriek nearly blew my eardrums out.

She stalked over to me, and grabbed one of my clong-sleeved wrist that Jove had said was too skinny. Without waiting for my permission, she pushed up the sleeve.

Ooooh, I'm in big trouble. Her eyes are wide as saucers seeing the tiny scars that criscross my arm. Not big enough to look like I ever tried to commit suicide, but enough to know that those wounds were self-inflicted.

"She was right," Aunt Selene shrieked, her short frame glaring up at me for all she was worth. "Why is she right, Katrina? What did I do wrong in raising you?!" she demanded.

I wince, turning my head away from her and away from my scarred arm, pushing my other hand keep within my pocket so she would not notice that I had another arm.

After a few moments of silence, I heard Jove call out from the living room that someone was at the door for Aunt Selene. He sounded chipper like he always did, and for a moment I wanted his happiness. I wanted to be so blissfully happy that I could cover up all the pain that boiled within me when I saw Aunt Selene cry because of me.

Although she wasn't actively crying right now, I could see that she had cried a few nights' before. I don't know why, though, or what I had done that time. It was just another hallucination of mine.

Turning her head towards the sound of her son's voice, she called back a response. Then she dropped my wrist and glared at me, gritting her teeth. "You are grounded, Katrina. I am taking away any sharp object that you have in your room and telling Peter to watch over you. If you try to do something like this again..." she left the warning as it was and I nodded.

When she had finally left the room, I found that my knees could not support me anymore, and I dropped onto the ground, still in shock that my psychiatrist had betrayed that secret. Weren't they bound by law to not tell anyone my secrets? And to think I had liked Dr. Philip!

"C'mon, Kat," came Jove's voice as I felt arms encircle me and hug me. "Let's get you back to your room because Mom's done talking to Mr. Colins."

I felt him roll down my sleeve patiently and guide me back to my room.

It was two weeks after the incident at the kitchen, and Aunt Selene still has me grounded. Of course, that hasn't stopped my cutting or the strange dreams that I have, but she doesn't have to know.

And, it hasn't stopped me from attacking the phones. As well as inviting my friends over.

It also hasn't stopped Jove's friend Stephen from bugging me all day. I swear, Stephen and Jove are going to be best friends throughout their entire lives. They've known each other ever since third grade, and haven't allowed anything to come between them ever since then. Not even a girl. I'm starting to doubt those soap operas where they say a girl will come between guy friends. But anyway, I love Stephen like I love Jove, but he's just so much more stranger than Jove is, and that's saying a lot!

"I really don't understand why Aunt Selene got so freaked out over your cutting," Stephen was commenting, blowing blond bangs away from his dark brown eyes. He was doing homework over Jove's bed, and I was drawing on the ground, spread out and tugging my sprawled teddy close. My teddy bear is at least four feet tall, but kind of flat. I don't remember when I first got it, but I love my teddy.

Did I mention that Stephen's a total and complete nerd? He doesn't wear glasses and is just a little taller than Jove, but Stephen's still considered small and looks fragile.

"I think mom's scared that she'll just cut too deep one day," Jove commented from where he was doing stretches a few feet away from me. I don't understand how my dear cousin can touch his head to his knees and then do splits, but I guess how small he is accounts to a lot of it. I know that I can barely touch my toes.

"Will you stop talking like I'm not here?" I mutter, my eyes never leaving the paper that I was painting on. I was just mixing and matching colors at random, but I know that I'm a pretty good artist, and I'm going to have something pretty good come out.

"Hey, I wasn't talking like that!" Stephen protested, cupping his chin in his hand as he wrote down the math problem he had been working on. He pushed himself up and peered down on me. "What are you drawing this time, anyway?"

I paused. "I'm supposed to know?"

"It's your painting."

I looked up at him, blinking innocently. "I never know what I'm drawing, though! You know that! Now you ask me what I draw?"

He looked a little closer at my drawing. "It looks.... red."

I shrugged. "I used a lot of red paint on this one." With that said, I set my paintbrush into the cut of water I had brought in with me. "It just kinda happened."

"Another one of your visions?" Jove mused.

"Another one of my hallucinagins, most likely," I said. With a sign, I swirled my painbrush in the water and then applied it in the violets. "I swear, I'm never talking to a psychiatrist again. Or a psychologist. They're weird, they suck, and they don't keep their promises."

"You know that mom's going to make you see another one and another one until she assumes that you've somehow 'recovered'." Jove said. He actually looked relaxed while doing his stretches. Oh, yeesh. I feel sick just looking at the angle which he has his joints.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Jove?" I demanded, a disturbing fasination coming over me. Forget my painting, this was much more... not really interesting, but more weird. I couldn't take my eyes off him. "Are you trying to make me sick? For God's sake, you're a runner, not a gymnist!"

"I know that." he sounded irritated. "That's why I'm not on the parallel bars, and not in tights."

Stephen snickered.

"You might as well be," I murmured, going back to my painting.

"The parallel bars, or the tights?" Stephen asked.

"Oh, shut up!"

Both Stephen and I laughed quietly as Jove huffed.

It was a few hours later when Stephen called his parents to ask if he could sleep over. Another thing I love about Stephen- he's not like those pompus jerks at school. He's so immature at times but doesn't give a damn what others think of him because of it. I've got to start learning from him.

I continued on my painting, and, like Stephen said, continued to use a lot of red paint. I couldn't really make anything out until I realized had had painted both Stephen a Jove into the picture. Hmph. That's what they get for disturbing me in the middle of my painting. Guess it wasn't another of my halluincations, then. But really, they weren't bleeding in the painting, were they? That would be creepy. I did love the both of them, no matter how much they annoyed me.

Aunt Selene was running around the house again, demanding what we did with her nice clothes. Turns out she has another date that day. Seriously, she has dates with different guys every single week. Always going to the same bar downtown with different guys. I don't get how she thinks.

After bugging her when she was busy, she finally conceeded to me being allowed to invite my best friend over. I mean, if Stephen gets to stay anytime he wants, why can't Jeri?

Of course, I was just trying to snatch Jeri away from the boyfriend from hell. Oh, he's not a bad boyfriend, alright. He's perfect when it comes to Jeri. Every single freakin' thing that she wants, he'll get it for her. He's nice to me, too. It's just that I feel neglected when Jeri starts talking about that jerk. She can go on for hours and never stop. I know they're going to stay together forever, but geez, you know, I GOT IT ALREADY!

So, Jeri came over and also decided to stay the night. Peter came in to bug us for a few hours before we got him to go in Jove's room to bug the boys when, I heard a thump and a laugh as Jove accidentally tripped over the four year old boy. A few moments later, Stephen appeared from the room with Peter slung over his shoulder firefighter style. Jeri and I joined in a tickling fight with Peter and Stephen when Jove came from the room, looking steamed.

So we (Jeri and I) dragged Jove into out little street brawl and allowed him to take whatever frustrations we had on Peter... in a fun way, of course.

It was then that the babysitter arrived (I hate babysitters, by the way) and Aunt Selene just took one look at us, shook her head, then left on her date. I thought this babysitter was cool. She just sat and did her homework, saying that since almost all of us were older than her anyway, we should be more responsible than her. She didn't know how wrong that statement was- but hey, she's the babysitter.

That's how we ended up dragging sleeping bags and pillows and blankets out to the living room and deciding that we would have a big slumber party there. Jove and Stephen protested, but Peter's charm could melt through even steel. Did anyone's parents protest to the boy/girl sleeping arrangement? Not really. We've all basically known each other forever.

"If we weren't so mature," Jeri was stressing, giving me a sly glance with her brown eyes and a flick of her black hair, "You'd really be in trouble, Jove."

"How so?" Jove asked, lying on the couch and reading a sports magazine. He gave us girls a fleeting look then turned his attention back to what he was reading.

"I brought my makeup collection over." she said casually.

"You don't have makeup, Jeri." Jove said, not paying us any attention. Jeri pouted behind him, and I gave a snort. Did I mention Jeri was also immature? You'd think with the family that she has, (Jeri's Chinese, and her parents are very strict) she would be more mature than we were.

I dumped my book on the ground, making a loud splatter that got even Stephen's attention but thankfully didn't wake Peter up.

"She's right, Jove." I said, half annoyed. "It's not fair."

"What's not fair?" Stephen asked, looking at us from where he had set up his laptop.

"Jove!" Jeri said, nodding towards me.

"What?!" Jove demanded, finally closing his magazine and glaring at us. Oh, ouch, he seems kind of pissed. But then, he always gets over it.

"What?" I echoed. I snorted, and then sat up from my perch. "Jove, you dolt. It is so not fair, and you don't even know it. Even if I've told you a thousand times. Every other girl at my school would agree with me. It's just not fair!"

Jove stared at me for a moment. Then he sighed as Stephen snickered from the ground. "Okay, Kat. What the hell are you talking about?"

Jeri dove at me before I could respond. "I can't believe you don't know, Jove!" She exclaimed, covering my mouth. I glared at her and tried to move enough to wrestle her off me. It didn't work. "With your looks, the entire female population in school is either jealous or in love with you!" When both he and I sputtered, she whispered to me, "Don't you feel lucky to be the cousin of the most beautiful guy in school, Katrina?"

I finally got her hand off my mouth.

"Jeri!"

Hey, I guess cousins can talk in unison.

Of course, after we both got even with Jeri, Jove still had to shut Stephen up.

Chapter 2: The Painting

It was serveral days later when I remembered about the painting I made. Don't get me wrong, I don't just forget about what I do. It's just that life can be a bitch sometimes, you know? So much work that you never remember even something that you had been engrossed in a few days ago.

So imagine my surprise when I saw my painting of Jove and Stephen again, them standing a few feet away from each other with the world between them and in their way. It looked kind of sad, really. The painting was mostly done in shades of red, although I could still tell who Jove and Stephen were with their different colors. I could tell what the world was, too. But there was small strands of different colored thread that was connecting them both to the world.

There was also a deep red, and thick thread that went both ways around the world and connected them to each other. Strange.

So I decided that I should give the painting to Jove to see if he wanted it. I didn't know what to do with it. It's kind of strange to keep a painting of your cousin and his best friend in your room, if you know what I mean.

As always, Jove said that he would keep it and that I shouldn't throw it away because it was a beautiful painting. So I figured to give it to him and tell him that I'll give anything that I draw of him in the future to him. He agreed.

Ahh, school. Boring as always, I'm assured. I do pretty well in my classes. But really, I don't give a damn what I get in school as long as it's enough to get me to collage. I plan on leaving home and going far away to an accepted university where I can live out my life in apartments and take in part times jobs for all my life and maybe work my way up in artistic society as an artist. Excluding the fact that some of my friends are already in an art school and I'm not.

Who cares, anyway? I can do whatever I want. Isn't it supposed to be that I shouldn't believe whatever that society has to tell me and believe in myself to do things? It's just that Aunt Selene is always on my case about my grades. Maybe I needed to rant a little.

And so, after my grounding ended, I was allowed to go over to Jeri's house and Stephen's afterwards. I consider it my own reward for surviving being grounded by Aunt Selene. I didn't care that I didn't do my homework that day. I just told Aunt Selene that I did do it.

And so, I ended up staying the night at Stephen's house, talking about nothing in particular. That's where I started painting again, this time about Jeri about her boyfriend. Or at least, that's what I started out doing. I mean, I had the picture of Jeri and Alain down, but this time the entire thing was painted in this dark greyish color. It's beautiful, actually. You know how sometimes the pictures are more beautiful in black and white than they are in color? It's either that, or it's just me.

Stephen was leaning over my shoulder and commenting on it. I think that he got freaked out also by the way the picture ended up. It was beautiful- in a sad way.

Basically, while the picture with Jove and Stephen had been in red, this picture was grey and with Jeri looking into a mirror with a sad expression on her face. The most freaky thing is- Alain was hugging her from behind in the picture, but only Jeri was reflected in the mirror. Very freaky.

Let me tell you, if I hadn't already, just how Jeri and Alain look like. If you don't know, you don't know how freaky this picture was. Personally, I think that Jeri is pretty in a way that you say natural and not caring about your looks is pretty. She's the kind that doesn't give a damn what she wears, and how she wears it. She taught me that. But something she could never teach me is that she also doesn't give a damn if she has acne. No makeup at all to cover that up.

She likes to say that we all go through it sometime or another. Letting it out will allow other people to feel better.

Anyway, on to her looks. Jeri's Chinese- medium height, probably, with really long black hair (past her waist) and thin features. She's not beautiful in the sense of actors and models, but in a more beauty of knowing some secret that you'll never be able to figure out. I wish I were like that, and not plain.

Another is Alain. He's... well, he's not the best-looking guy in the school, but not the worst, either. He's like me- very plain. No striking features, but definately not too shabby. Brown hair that he has in a military cut, and grey eyes that are usually hidden because he's so deep in thought that when you see his eyes, you'd think that they were black.

You see those two together, it's really sweet. They're such a contrast in looks that you wonder about their personality and if they bicker all the time. Except they don't. I rarely see Jeri and Alain duke it out, and usually it's about the little things that no one else gives a damn for. The big decisions they always agree on. It's weird. Worse than the couple fights that you would have expected out of a girlfriend and boyfriend. But seeing them together is one thing, seeing them together but apart is another.

Don't understand what I'm saying? Good. I don't like to ackowledge anyone smarter than me, because I don't understand either.

It's just that when you look at the painting, you'd see Jeri almost grieving over the loss of Alain by her side, but he'd actually be right besides her. Feels like someone walked over her grave, huh? I had a strange sense of deja vu when I saw that painting, almost as if I had seen the situation before. But that's impossible. I never even knew what I had been drawing.

I considered giving the painting to Jeri, then thought it over and discovered that it would really freak her out to see something like this, so I decided to give it to Alain for his birthday... which was, well, in a month or so. Something like that. Jeri would remind me when his birthday comes up. She's great on remembering things. Sometimes I forget on purpose just to see how much information I could get out of her head. That girl is an organizer by herself!

So I've gotten a birthday covered. Good. I didn't feel like going shopping with Jeri for Alain's present... especially when I know he'll just smile at me politely when I hand it to him and continue to make goo-goo eyes at Jeri. It's sweet, really. So sweet I feel like gagging.

No offense to my friends.

So anyway, I felt that I solved the problem of my most recent painting and went to bug Aunt Selene for more paint until she finally conceeded and bought me an entire (new) paint set.

Scene!!! ^_^

He laughed gently, a sweet sound that I found myself hopelessly attracted to. "You think that I'm a fairy?" he asked, amusement flooding his voice.

"My mother used to call me fairy," I admitted, still enchanted by his eyes. They were a dull color, actually, just a muddy brown. But I could see something in there that other people could not see. I could see that thin strip of red that connected me to him, just as it had connected my mother to my father, and Jove to Stephen. Something that I never understood before, something that joined us and helped us come together. Destiny? God, I hope not. I don't like the thought of some higher power controlling my life and what happens to me. But I'm a closest romantic and want to think that there might be something connecting us to each other- possibly love.

But love? I barely knew him. All I knew were his personality, which I thought was enough. No one would approve of a relationship if we had one.

"There must be a connection," he joked. "My mother called me an elf. She said that I was too mischievious to be just a normal human. I would have thought you an Angel."

I turned red. I wasn't beautiful- hell, I wasn't even pretty! Just dull... and very plain. Someone you wouldn't give a second look to, even if I tried to dress up. There was nothing about me that told 'angel'.

I pressed my face into my hands, trying my very hardest to not look like I was hiding my expression. Aunt Selene was so smug with her little analogical thoughts that I wanted to deck her, no matter how much I loved her.

"How about this, Katrina." she was saying to my, leaning over the dinner table. Luckily, Jove had noticed my distress and was holding a mini wrestling game with Peter. They were making it so that it wasn't too big so Aunt Selene would object, and it wasn't as so they would look like they're trying to intrude on me. "You find me one adult- make it any teacher in your school, or even your psychologist, who permits their child to light candles in their room and I'll allow you to keep them. How about that?"

Bitch. She knew exactly what everyone would think. No adult that I knew was cool enough to allow their daughter the simplest trust of having a friend over without telling them. Who would allow a girl to light candles without dupervision? The urge to deck her became ten times harder to contain.

"Fine." I said casually, my eyes flashing in anger. I love my candles. Who is she to say if I can light my room with candles or not, anyway? Wasn't electricity expensive? Why the hell should she care?

"You know what?" she asked, now with a small smile on her red lips. "You can even ask Jeri's parents. If they agree to you, I'll let you keep your candles."

I could see Jeri about to walk in the kitchen and I immediantly tensed. I didn't want her caught up in my arguements. This was too much.

"Oh, would you just shut up?" I murmured. Instantly I regreted it.

"What?!"

Aunt Selene sat up straight, her eyes now furious. "What do you think you just said, young lady?" She was glaring at me over the dinner table and Jove and Peter continued their little fight.

I cringed. Did I just say that aloud? Shit. If I start saying what I'm thinking whenever Aunt Selene is scolding me, she would hate me a thousand times worse than she already does.

Fortunately, Jeri only excused herself, saying that she needed a glass of water. I don't know how she didn't manage to notice Aunt Selene and my glaring contest.

After Jeri left the kitchen again, Aunt Selene pointed a finger at me accusingly. "You had better watch your temper, Katrina." she warned. "I don't know how many times I've told you this already. You had better start learning or else."

"Fine." I stressed out, my head still in my hands. "I'm sorry, okay?" Damn, she was scary like that. You would think of me as a coward to be scared now, but think of that again when your own guardians are scolding you in that stressed out voice of their saying that we would die a fiery death if we disobey. Then you tell me I was a coward.

Besides, it was either calm her down now with my submissive state or make her even angrier and recieve a tongue lashing for the next two hours. Personally, I have better things to do with my time than listening to the same things that I've been listening to for the past few years. It was always the same. She'd blame everything that happened on my inability to control my temper.

Look who has a few fried circuts here, lady.

It's not like she'd ever listen to me anyway. I understand how she was stressed, taking care of three children as well as two more that come and go as they please. I also understood that it wasn't that she thought of me any less than Jove and Peter. It was because she treated me like her own daughter that I get yelled at so many times.

So sue me, I miss my own mom once in a while. It could always be the fact that I had a perfect family life when she was around. Of course, memories tend to be better as wishes, right?

Aunt Selene intensified her glare at me, and then snapped down her napkin. She just stood up and left the kitchen, not saying another word to me.

I did the dishes later.

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