The rest of that week was strange, tense, and all kinds of fun. I got to know Donna, and her husband, Donald. They were great to me, treating me like one of the family. I helped around their house a lot, cleaning and helping cook. I'd had to do a lot of the housework at home anyway, so I was used to it. A little too used to it, actually, according to Donna, who was forever shooing me out of the kitchen and encouraging me to 'go have fun'. I still felt like an intruder in their house, but whenever I voiced my guilt it was shot down by the entire Way family. Gerard and Mikey had told their parents everything, and they insisted I remain with them. As Donald put it, "There's no way in hell you're going back to that bastard!" So I stayed with them. I'd been shopping and bought myself a couple more outfits, but I often just borrowed tees off one of the boys. Donald had dug an old floor-bed out, and I now slept on that, in Gerard's room. After a few embarassing encounters, we learned to knock on the door before entering. Not that I minded those encounters - Gerard had a decent chest. Although it wasn't as much fun when he caught me topless. I also grew to know and love the guys. Mikey was just like a little brother. He was sweet, fun, and easily excited, one of the cheeriest, happiest boys I ever met. Frank, he was like a kid too, despite being my age. Hyperactive and mischeivous, and so bloody bouncy he gave me a headache. Ray was the quiet, reserved one. He was patient and very compassionate, and an excellent listener. I would find myself in deep conversations with him, about any number of topics. And Gerard... Gerard became my best friend. In just that short time, we spent so much time together, just talking and enjoying the company. We loved the same music, films, books, and comics, we both had similar interests, and we both revelled in our artwork. We would spend hours sketching or painting together, comfortable in each other's presence. He also understood me in a way no-one else could. He hadn't told anyone about my cutting, as promised, but he often talked to me about it. When I felt an urge, I went to him. Sometimes, I didn't have to say a word, he could tell just by looking at me. And he would sit with me, let my cry on him or vent out all my feelings and thoughts. He comforted me, and I didn't cut once at all, that whole week. It was the longest I'd ever gone without a relapse, since I'd started cutting aged twelve. I was proud of my self, and he was proud of me. For the first time, I felt truly happy. But, of course, the happiness couldn't last. That's life, I guess. I was walking back to the Way's - dare I call it home? - with all of the boys. We had an epic movie marathon planned, complete with every type of sweet known to man, thanks to Frank. At that moment, we were debating the existence of unicorns. "But they are real!" Mikey exclaimed. "They have to be! They're the greatest animals in existence!" This was met with laughs and Frank's reply of, "Mikey, they are MYTHICAL. They do NOT exist!" Mikey pouted. "Do so!" Me, Gerard and Ray groaned as this became a battle of "Do not!" and "Do so!" as we walked. Eventually, we got sick of it. Or I did, anyway. "Enough!" I yelled. They fell silent and looked at me. Gerard and Ray burst into laughter. Trying to keep a straight face, I said, "Guys, seriously, how old are you? You are debating existence of unicorns. Besides, we all know they exist. They're just fat and grey and we call them rhinos." This got more laughs, and Mikey's indignant "No!" I rolled my eyes. "Give it up, Mikes," I threw an arm around his shoulder. "You won't win, and you know it." He pulled a face, making me giggle as we carried on along the street. We came to a sidestreet, and were just about to cross the road when a rusted, battered red car pulled in front of us and stopped, blocking our path. Frank swore colourfully, and all four of them moved to go around the vehicle. I, however, remained still, statue-like, staring at the smirking face of the driver, my frightened eyes locked onto his crazy, dilated ones. "Krissy? Kriss, come on." Mikey was tugging at my arm. I didn't, couldn't move an inch. Slowly, Mitch wound his window down "Evening, fellas," he spoke smoothly. "I have a favour to ask." By now, all the boys were watching him warily. "Now, if you guys give me back my daughter, quietly and without a fight, I won't do nothing. If you don't, I'll screw you up so bad your mummies won't recognize you." He pulled out a switchblade, smirking as it glinted in the dim light. Icy fear shot down my spine, making me shiver with dread. I couldn't go back to him, I'd end up dead. But if I didn't go, my friends would end up hurt, or worse. I couldn't let that happen, either. I was overwhelmed suddenly with a need to protect them, despite the fact that I would be risking myself. This urge had me walking over to the car, almost in a trance, my only concious thought to protect my friends. After all, they'd done so much for me, and they were such good people, better than I could ever be. I owed it to them. "Krissy, what the fuck? No!" Gerard's voice cut through my mind. "Kriss, stop! You are NOT going with that son of a bitch!" He dashed over to stand directly in front of me. "Gee, I have to. I'm not letting him hurt you guys. Just, please, move. Go home. I'll be fine. See you in school." I gave him as confident a smile as I could manage. Behind Gerard, I heard a car door crack open. "Move, boy," Mitch snarled. Gerard remained still. I heard a rough, exasperated sigh, and Gerard was suddenly flung to the side. He hit the pavement, hard, and I shrieked. The other boys rushed forward, Mikey knelt by his older brother and Frank and Ray came to my defense. Or, tried to. Mitch clutched my hair and yanked me to him, holding me against his body. He smelled of unwashed clothes, sweat, and stale alcohol. I would have been grossed out if I wasn't so full of crippling fear. Mitch stuck out his hand, putting the small yet deadly blade between us and my friends. I heard his cruel laugh. "Thanks," he spat at them. "We'll be leaving now," and then he dragged me backwards, kicking and screaming, to throw me into his car. The last thing I saw was Gerard's deep hazel eyes staring at me in terror, before the car ripped away.

Notes

Dun, dun, DUUUUUN...