I was in my room, drawing again in my brend-new sketchpad. I sat on my purple satin bed spread and listen to my aprents fight downstairs, trying not to care.

My mom and dad, Jean and Geoff, were the perfect couple. Always got along, and had a fight every once in a while. After the fight, they would kiss, make up, and ask us kids to go outiside for a few minutes while they had some 'alone time' in their bedroom.

But this time, it was different. There was no making-up. No 'alone time'. Just screaming. And yelling. And now, crying from outside my window.

We lived in a nice littler white house with a wrap around porch with an old swing, and alot of older trees hanging around the house. It was a little thing outside of the suburbs, but there were a couple of houses on every block or so.

My sisters, the twins Amanda and Miranda, were outside bickering about how mom and dad were fighting, and now they had come to the conclusion of mom and dad getting a divorce.

I went downstairs, leaving my new baby-brother Anthony crying in his cradle. I walked down the stairs, that were wonr and a fadded wood color, and saw them at it. I left a blank expression on my face, and sat down on the couch. We had one brown velvet couch, one red single arm-chair, and then a dark-green floral print double seater. Nothing in our house matched.

I was watching Lost tapes on Animal Planet and the father put his huge hands on my shoulder. He hadn't done that since I was 11, and the twins were 8. I was now 15.

"Go outside, Keysha." he said, gritting his teeth. "But-" "Go outside!" and i left, with that said and done.

I was now outside swinging on the makeshift tire swing back and forth. around in circles. Anthony still cried. the girls were out playing tag in the woods. I was alone.

I could never stand being alone, but I got used to it. While my mom worked at the Vet Clinic that she owned, and dad was at the office, I had to take the girls, and now Anthony, to daycare, and was alone at home after school.

I went and climbed the balcony outide of the hallway upstairs and snuck into Anthony's room. I heard my mom yell something like, "Put that DOWN Geoff-" and then, a bang. Like if you were to drop somehting like a potted plant, and then a loud, thua-dump.

I ran outside of his room, into the hall, and down the stairs. My father sat there with his hands into balled fists and my mother was lying on the ground, unconsious, and covered in blood and potery.

Anthony stopped crying. I ran to the phone, to call 911. My father grabbed my hand, "Don't you dare telll them I did this, or I'll go to jail. You wouldn't want that, would you?" he said. I shook my head no. "good." was all he said.

I grabbed the phione again, dialed 911, and in minutes, there was a detective agency asking us all (Accept Anthony) questions. My father was taken to jail, my mom in a coma at the hospital, my sisters and brother to my grandparent's house. I was now, again, all alone.