For Ty: Happy late as fuck birthday. I hope you enjoyed this story- I had an amazing time writing this story, and I hope that I wrote this the exact same way you imagined when you were creating her. 3 To be honest though, at this point, it's slowly become a Christmas gift. Oh well. Merry Christmas, man.

(It feels weird that I changed writing styles at random places, but that's okay.)

why did i make up an oc? i changed things to make it work because im uncreative.

(Please take notice, these word are hopeless

It's ripping me apart and I can't take it anymore)

I will hold my tongue for the rest of my life

~Mayday Parade, Everything's An Illusion

Her mother didn't give her another look once she sat her down, trying almost desperately to reassure herself that what she's doing is best for them- and the child. She wouldn't be a good mother, and he.. he wouldn't want to be with her if she had a kid. It was for the best, children only ever seem to ruin things.

The child screams, repeatedly, begging for attention and comfort. She doesn't look down though, instead, pulling the blanket over her head and loudly pounds on the door before she notices a light flicking on. Her breath hitches in her throat, regret and worry seeming to fill from the bottom of her stomach and engulfing her previous feelings.

It all but left her being when another light illuminated the house even further, coming closer to the front door. Her feet moved on it's own, slowly backing away from the child and off the porch.

(She left a note, scribbled and barely legible, filled with spelling errors but the Caretakers can read it easily. The note calls her "Presley" and they decide to keep her name.)

Presley is a child and children have infinite amount of energy, innocent to the last drop, and blinded by black and white thinking.

It's when she's four years old when she notices that people aren't always to be trusted, as some of them would gladly do rather terrible things to her like steal her beads or hurt her. Jane, her roommate that warns her every time, doesn't let her near any of the sleepy-looking men that smell like garbage that's been left in the rain and left to rot.

The older girl warns her of them, constantly. Like her memory gets erased and Jane has to protect her, which frankly, pisses her off. Presley refuses to believe that she needs to be protected, and hates when the blonde girl drags her away from anything that captures her interest. It's not fair at all in Presley's mind and when she brings it up, Jane only lightly smiles at her, and tells her she'd've loved someone like herself to guide and teach her these things. "District Six isn't very safe sometimes, Presley. Everyone should be protected; so I'm here to protect you."

She's five years old when she is all by herself and Jane is nowhere to be seen.

He's old, in his thirties, dressed in green and orange which confuses Presley because it looks weird mixed together and he looks stupid. He calls himself an escort, another thing that confuses her because she's pretty sure that's just another fancy word for whore. (He doesn't seem pleased when she tells him this.)

The man, whom she's going to call Neo until she's told otherwise, gushes over an event that is about to happen. "The Hunger Games, little smelly one! Aren't you excited? Perhaps one of your buddies are going to be honored to go into the Hunger Games!"

"Won't they.." she tries to think of the word, but bites her lip because Jane warns her that the word is wrong and shouldn't be used around others. Thus, she changes the word so that when Jane finds her, she can't yell at her. Or rather, as much. "Bleed..?"

"Of course!" He claps, laughing loudly. It hurts her ears, the shrilled voice of his. Neo wiggles his finger at her, tsking at her. "That's the whole point of the Hunger Games, silly girl. It's a fight to the death!"

"That doesn't sound fun."

Neo almost looks offended, like she had announced she thought he was stupid and ugly. Which he was, but she didn't say it. "It's very fun. I've been watching it since I was your age, girly. Everyone in the entire country watches it! Everyone loves it!"

"It's not nice to watch people get hurt," she looks questionably at him. That's what Jane tells her, at least. People getting hurt isn't funny. Presley reminds herself to ask Jane about The Hunger Games, and if it's as fun as the weird man says it is.

"Well.." he trails on awkwardly, attempting to explain to her that is very much so nice as it's something of a punishment and it's not just another source of comedy for everyone. Once he begins explaining something about being spoiled with candies and cute clothing, she thinks he's teasing her. District Six only has one candy shop and only the rich can afford it, and not her, she doesn't like it. Plus, it the prize meant that they got to wear silly clothes, she doesn't think it's worth it.

"Does everyone have to do it?"

Neo claps his hand together again, nodding fervently. "Of course! Everyone gets a chance to do it, aren't you lucky? In the Capitol, we can only watch and play pretend to do it." He looks genuinely upset about this fact. "I would do anything to be in your spot, I've always wanted to go in for the the fame and the honour. So unfair."

She doesn't get a chance to respond before he quickly jumps back to his feet, rushing over to the stage and microphone. Presley is left to stand in the middle of the isle, being pulled back by a Peacekeeper that throws her into a pen. The strawberry blonde girl watches Neo take two slips out from oversized bowls, doing a great and winded speech on honour and… something. She lost interest after the third word.

Once it's over, Presley manages to find Jane. Grabbing her hand, Presley asks her if the man was correct. If people really did like watching other people get hurt.

"Of course not!" She sounds scared, swallowing, before lowering her voice. Bending down until her hands are in her own, she whispers, "The Hunger Games is very, very bad.. okay? We don't talk about them."

Presley is confused and doesn't understand. The man was so happy to talk about them.. "But-"

"Presley, please." Her voice cracks. "We don't talk about it. Promise me you won't bring this back up."

Presley brings her thumb to her mouth, looking away from her. "Umm…"

"Presley, please."

"Okay.." Presley sighs, locking her pinky finger with the older girl's. "I promise you, Jane."

Jane gives a light smile, worry still obvious on her face. "Good. Now, c'mon.. we need to meet up with the rest of the other girls."

It's a few years later when she officially meets the Headmaster, not like when he occasionally came down to eat with them during the holidays or give a written speech about one of the girls dying or being adopted.. whichever seemed to happen first.

He goes around the cafeteria, speaking to every girl that he catches his eye on, gracefully floating and talking gently to them all. When he sees Presley, another light smile paints itself on his face as he manages himself over to her.

Presley smiled. "Good morning." A simple look from one of the supervisors reminded her. "Sir."

He leaned down, gently stroking the side of her face and then curling his fingers around the curls of her light blonde hair. "Good morning to you too, Presley."

He smiled, much too wide for her not to wonder if he was really a wolf and if he was going to gobble her up like the other girls said. "Why, aren't you just turning out to be a pretty young lady?"

Still, there was something about him that made him feel trusting to her. The orderlies all liked him, they sang praises about how great he was... but why did the older girls flinch when he entered the room? Was be mean- did he hit them like the others did?

"Thank you," she smiled sweetly, grabbing the edges of her skirt. They always were less harsh on the beatings if they were polite.. maybe he would be too. She wondered if he was one of the nice ones.

He turned away from her, locking eyes with another blonde girl. "I'll see you again, Presley."

Presley watched as he made his way towards her, grabbing her shoulders affectionately. The girl squealed, flinching as she backed away from him. She whimpered out a response- an apology- quicking leaving the cafeteria.

"Presley!" Jane set her tray down next to her, returning her attention from the headmaster.

"Hi," Presley smiled in return, looking down at her food. Gripping her fork, she picked at the slightly pink meet in front of her. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she didn't want to be punished for not finishing her food. Picking up a piece and shoving it into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow the undercooked food.

"Are you okay?" Jane asks, doing the same as her. Lifting her cup to her mouth, a pink bow tie necklace wrapped around her arm like a bracelet. Presley wondered where she found it. It looked expensive, like one of those fancy ones you'd occasionally find the richer citizens wearing.

"Mhm.. why do you have that?" Presley reached out, feeling the chain between her fingers.

"I found it," Jane looked down, keeping the cup at her lower face, a faint smile on her face. It didn't take Presley anytime to realize what she really meant. Oh.

Later that night

Presley could still hear someone's feet wandering the hall, opening doors and whispering to someone. She wondered if they were chasing shifts, or if someone had tried to leave the orphanage again.

The door opened, revealing the Headmaster from earlier today. She pulled the comforter up closer to her body, shutting her eyes and hoping he wouldn't notice her awake. Several moments passed before she could feel someone's weight on the end of the bed, their hands pressing down on their side.

"Presley," the speaker whispered their name, their voices soft enough that only she'd be able to hear.

It was Mr. Rafferty.

Bringing her hands to her face, Presley faked waking up; giving a big show about yawning and stretching her arms before she managed out, "S-sir?"

"I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to wake you, but I need you to come with me for a moment." He pulled the covers back from her body, his eyes lingering on her body as she slowly managed herself off the bed. "Please- be silent not to wake the others."

Rafferty gripped her hand, pulling her to his chest like an armour. Presley looked up at him, confused and slightly nervous about being pulled into his office in the middle of the night. As he pulled her, Presley noticed how tight his hold on her truly was. Her wrists ached, barely able to move her fingers or take back her arm from his gripe.

"Am I in trouble?" she finally managed to say, her voice getting quieter as they passed multiple orderlies making their own rounds.

"No, of course not, darling," he smiled at her, failing to give her a reassuring squeeze. "I just need to talk to you for a little while."

Moments pass until they find themselves in his office, him telling her to take a seat before locking the door behind them.

"Presley.." he smiles down at her, kneeling down infront of her.

"Headmaster?"

"This is a very pretty nightgown, Presley," the Headmaster pulled the collar of her nightgown, his touch cold and fingers unwanted against Presley's skin. He leaned into her ear, pressing his lips against her ear. She cringed at this, biting her lip, confused and uncomfortable. She attempted to move her hand back, but his hand swatted her back.

Noticing her discomfort, Rafferty lost his questionable smile. He let go of her wrist, bringing it up to cup her face. She swallowed the discomfort in her throat, eyeing anywhere else but him. His touch made her want to recoil, to hide away from him.

"S-stop," she whimpered out, not able to control the sound of fear in her voice. The pain in her wrist continued. "You're hurting me-"

"Please, Presley, calm down.. I'm not trying to hurt you," he said, failing completely to try and calm her down. He caressed her cheek, pressing his forehead against hers. Mr Rafferty breathing grew heavier as he stared at her, licking over the top bits of his teeth, his eyes trailed down her body. He quickly managed to slip the nightgown over his shoulders, throwing it gently to the ground beside her.

Presley covered her chest the best she could with her legs, trying very hard to force herself away from the man. Terror had basically forced her to freeze, gently shaking and she naively hoped that Jane was standing just outside, ready to burst in any second now and take her and hide her away from the man.

His hands grabbed her thighs, forcing them open and he forced his lips to trail up and down her legs, comforting hushing her once again as he nuzzled his face into her. Moments later, as tears are falling down her face, he's forcing himself inside her. Her screams are completely silent, a searing pain in her throat, unable to make a sound.

The water burned her skin raw, turning it a pink colour, and she can only imagine how much trouble she's going to get in for using so much. Dirt and water swirl together, taining the her bath water, but she doesn't seem to notice. She hugged her legs to her chest, pressing her chin into it as fat tears rolled down her face.

Her body shook harshly, unable to control herself. Her body still felt disgusting, like that trash that's been thrown around and left. Hours passed, the water turning a dark colour, but Presley didn't move. Sliding a rag up and down her thighs, twisting her fingers around the soap. Repulsed by her own touch, she could barely bring herself to continue to clean herself.

"Presley," he kissed the top of her head, her fingers brushing back stray pieces of her hair. "I have a present for you, because you've been such a good girl."

She bit her lip, wincing back from his touch. She still felt dirty, confused on why he was being so gentle now. It didn't seem to matter how much she washed herself last night, she could still feel him on her skin, inside of her, his sweat and other sticky liquids over stomach and thighs. It made her want to tear her skin out, rip his touch out of her and never have to remember how his nails dug into her skin when he climaxed.

His smile scared her. It wasn't the same smile as the one he first gave her, the one where she wondered if he was going to eat her. This one was soft and gentle like he could calm a quaking kitten with a single smile.

"I-" she bit her tongue again. Why did she feel so small?

He opened his hand, revealing a small necklace with a bowtie on it. "Do you like it? I think you'll look even more beautiful with it."

The second his fingers touched her neck, caressing her collarbone and stroking her cheek, she hissed. Her hands pushing him away, falling onto her back and tears fell from her face.

He cursed, loudly. Grabbing her arms, pulling her up, and wrapping his arms around her, making sure she's completely unable to move. He leaned into her ear, breathing heavily into her ear. "Shh, darling- you need to be quiet.. or you're going to be punished. You do want to be punished, do you? I can get the head supervisor, Presley.. she wouldn't be happy when she learns you're misbehaving."

"No.. no, she wouldn't," she nodded, tears falling from her eyes as he did a complete one eighty spin from terrifying her to giving a kind, patient smile.

"Good," he leans in, kissing her forehead. "I would never hurt you, Presley. Ever. You're one of my darling angels, I will always protect you at all costs. I love you. Don't you know this? You love me too, don't you Presley? Please, say it for me."

She hesitantly nodded again, unable to speak with a growing ball in her throat.

He claimed he loved her.

(Love felt disgusting.)

Another year passed, with the Hunger Games drawing near, reaping those unlucky enough to put their names in. Presley soon wonders if she'll ever have her name called, or if she'd be free from the horrific experience. With her luck, she'd be reaped her first year and be the first to die. (She has vivid fantasies of volunteering, to escape it all by death.)

As Presley lowered herself into the water, she could hear the door opening, loud, forced breathing and crying before she could hear the sound of a woman harshly cursing and berating. Several of the other girls immediately went quiet, the showers going completely silent, save for the sound of water.

The small body of a twelve-year old, wearing a bow necklace and pajamas, and the sharply dressed head supervisor, the girl's face red and tear stained while the woman badly attempts to keep herself calm. Presley wraps her legs closer to her chest, giving a confused look to her. Her roommate brings her fingers to her lips, before looking at the scene in front of her.

The girl curls herself into a tight ball, wailing at she screamed obscenities at her. She couldn't tell what she was talking about- most words being gargled and stuttered. The woman's hand strikes the girl's face, her nails digging into her face. Presley and almost the entirety of the girl's screamed, gasping away from the two.

"I will not stand for false accusations, ladies!" Her voice was cracking, piercing like she was a predator that was terrorizing their prey. Presley thought of the owls outside in the factories, screeching as they dived for the mice and smaller birds. "I am appalled by the amount of lies you've made of the beloved headmaster of your home. He took all of you in- you should all be much, much more grateful for what he and we've all done for you. How dare any of you try and seek attention by saying these repulsive rumours? If I even hear a whisper of anything like this about him: each and everyone one of you will be punished."

She straightened her clothes, looking over all of them. Her eyes fell on Presley, noticing her necklace. Presley lowered her eyes, covering her chest and a partial of her necklace. "Starting now, all girls that have come forward and told these lies will be moved into the solitary unit until they can learn they must not tell lies."

The door opened again, with several of the other orderlies coming in there. Three girls stood in front of them, obviously ones that lied- all wearing the same necklace as the screaming girl on the floor. Presley grabbed her necklace- same as hers.

She read off named by memory, pointing to each girl. The girls were pulled away, some completely naked and out of their tubs, others covered. A few of Presley's own roommates were taken, even a few handfuls of the young new girls.

"Presley Delon."

"No-" Jane hissed, bringing her hands to her mouth and took a protective stance over the cowering girl. "S-she- she didn't say anything! That's not fair- that's not fair at all!"

The supervisor barely had to move her hand to make Jane shriek loudly, whimpering in fear as she stepped back and tearfully watched as they forced Presley out of the tub. Presley looked behind her, her eyes staring into Jane's as she mouthed please, Jane- help me.

Jane lowered her eyes, tears staining her face as Presley and the other girls were dragged out of the showers and into the halls by the large orderlies.

Presley was barely able to keep up with them, almost falling onto her feet as they escorted them own into the basement part. The temperature was remarkably colder than upstairs, like someone had opened up all the windows and let the cold and snow fill the entire basement. It was much larger than what she presumed it as, it was almost as large as the rest of the rest of the house.

She rubbed her shoulders, shivering as she noticed several small rooms coming into view as they furthered entered the basement. The only way to see out of the room was a small window placed high on the door, bar lined up as a way to keep them from maybe climbing out that way. Padded with what she presumed to be foam or some other soft looking padding, coloured off white.

"Stand together, do not move." one of them commands, grabbing two of the younger girls and herding them into the room door. "Do not speak- anyone that does will be punished."

She enters the room, stripping them both of their wet towels and slams the door behind her.

Another two forced three of the older girl's to follow them deeper into the hallway, leaving Presley and two other girls her age to stand together. One of them, a dark skinned girl shook aggressively as she watched at the door where the older girl's went.

"We're gonna die," she repeated to herself, over and over again, almost too quiet for anyone to hear but herself. "He-he's going to have them kill us. We're going to die- and they're gonna make it hurt and-"

"Stop," Presley lowered her eyes at her, licking her lips nervously. "They wouldn't. Okay.. they wouldn't. We'll be okay.."

And then came sounds of whip tearing at flesh, the sound of one of them bemoaning and screeching.

The girl infront of her fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes and urine pooling around them all, screaming. Neither Presley or the other girl could think of anything to say- or do- all they could do was to try and ignore the screams and hope that the other girl would be okay. That they would be okay.

The orderly comes back as soon as the girl's pants began to slow down, scolding her loudly for scaring the other children. Presley almost laughs, a smile pulling at lips, but loses it once the orderly gives them a look that causes them all to flinch. "All three of you," she motions for them to follow her.

Once they do, they're placed into individual cells, much to the begging and crying to be placed together by the cowardly girl before. Presley briefly wondered if the girl would cry more because of this, or if she'd break down like so many previous girl's she's seen before. As morbid as it was, she wished she would so Presley wouldn't have to listen to hear her wailing the entire time they're there.

Presley moved around to stand on her toes, reaching up to the small barred window. The scarred face of the orderly meets her, causing her to squeak in surprise and step back. The woman glared down at her, the striking black whip in her hand, motioning for her to kneel.

Kneeling like she'd been told, Presley could only guess what would happen to happen- seeing as she did just listen to the screaming of the other girls being whipped… not too hard of a guess.

Before she knew it, her towel was pulled off of her and quick licks from the whip met her back, forcing Presley to drop further onto the cold tiles, shaking rapidly from the pain. Her eyes glossed over, unable to control the saline that spilled.

It felt like hours before she had stopped completely, though Presley realized later it'd probably only been minutes. Her back stung worse with the open air than when the tongue of the whip scarred her back.

Once the woman had left the cell, Presley wondered how often this'll happen now.. if Rafferty would decide that they all needed to be silenced, or if this was just a one time thing to intimidate her and everyone else into staying quiet about his love.

A week.

That's how long she was there according to Jane, barely leaving her little cell the day before she's allowed to leave. Jane tells her that she looks skinnier, skin much more pale, and she's not as innocent as she used to behave. Like a feral child, Presley looks like she's on a hunt constantly with a wild look in her eye and a moral code that never formed quite right.

Rafferty still sneaks into her room at night, everyone's really, pulling them into his office, and sucks the life out of them. No remorse, just lust and empty promises that sound like threats to Presley anymore.

He curses the head orderlies name, saying what she did was disrespectful to both him and their love, that he would never let anyone harm the girls he loves so dearly. Especially not her. Not his Presley. There's no one in the world he thinks more dear about.

With a tongue like a razor, he forces his way into her mouth once again and effectively slices it open so she cannot speak out against him the way she wished.

It's a few weeks later when she notices one of the girl's bragging about stealing food from the kitchen, mocking how one of the orderlies (the only one that guards) that guards the kitchen seems to take naps insteads of guarding. When the girl is handing how small bits of stale bread, she plays with the idea of taking a knife and stabbing them all with it. It's silly, she tells herself and laughs. They're all so much more powerful than she is.. she's not a murderer, she wouldn't hurt anyone.

(Rafferty's face comes into her vision, smiling down with a hungry smile, his pleasure soaking her lips and chin. He'd be her only exception.)

Wiping the crust from her eyes, Presley let the older man take her by the hand, swiftly guiding her down the hall to his office once again. Her stomach turned at the thought of what would transpire, how he would touch her, what he'd tell her..

Goosebumps covered her arms, a cold shiver running down her back. She didn't want it to happen, not again, she wanted it to all end.

Once they arrived in his office, the same routine happening as before, her hand slips into his back pocket to grab the little key that locks the door. In her mind, it was perfect.. stupid, but perfect. She didn't think it'd work, no, but.. she wanted to try it and see.

"Your first reaping is going to be soon," he frowns. There's a tone that hints in his voice - disappointment? She can't tell. "You're getting so old, Presley. So much older than when we first met; just a child then, now-"

He doesn't have time to finish his sentences before Presley is screaming at him, kicking him hard in the jaw. He falters, groaning out curse words and tending to his bruised jaw, while Presley used the matches from his desk to lit the paper with from his trashcan on fire and kicked it to the floor.

Rafferty's eye widen, looking at her sharply. "P-Presley, what do you think-"

Again, Presley forces him silent with a lung and a loud intake of breath. The knife pierces his ribs, making a sickly sound that Presley doubted she'd ever be able to actually explain what reminded her. Rafferty screamed, immediately grabbing at where she had managed to stab at him, falling back. He pulled the knife out, letting it hit the floor with a loud cash. Quickly grabbing it, Presley pushed it out in front of her, doing a weak attempt at threatening him, moving to the door as she noticed the fire had grown much larger than it previously had moments ago.

"Pre-Presley?" fear was evident in his voice, eyes wide as he desperately tried to stand up on both feet to get to the door and away from the fire.

She didn't answer, slamming the door shut and shakily trying to put the key into the lock and turn it. Staring at the door for a moment, the knife dropping to the ground once again. As soon as it did, she jumped back from shock, fist pounding on the door, rattingly the door handle. She could smell the smoke from the other side already, thick and disgusting.

The flames sparked and hissed as the smoke quickly began escaping the small gaps in the door. Presley bit her lips, her heartbeating quickly as the fire was so close to completely blocking them from escaping. She looked down at the key, her fingers shaking as she smiled at it. They're trapped… completely.

They'd never be able to escape, they'll be swallowed whole and she would be safe.. Jane, everyone here. They're all safe, they can't hurt anyone anymore. Not again not ever. She laughed, tears falling from her eyes as she dropped the key and put her hands up to her face to wipe her tears.

She felt something pulsing in her stomach- pain, happiness, relief?

They still continued to scream and pound on the door, begging for her to open the door.

"Presley- darling, I'm sorry I made you upset. Please, please open the door! I won't be mad!" The headmaster begged, his voice obviously getting more and more desperate as the fire sizzled. She could the slightest bit of wheezing, obviously in great pain from the knife wound."OPEN the door."

"No-no," she repeated, her voice hiccuping as she laughed. She didn't hear his wife anymore, causing her to giggle even more.

"Presley- if don't you don't," he's practically crying, she notes. "J-just give me the key- please. I'll.. I'll give you more jewellery!"

Silence.

"Presley."

Fingers digged at the bottom of the door, desperately trying to claw out of the room. The tips of their fingers already burnt, their screams for help- for anyone. Smoke filled the room, causing the fire alarms to start going off.

Presley could hear the distant stomping and screams of the other children and supervisors', rushing out of the orphanage.

So much screaming. Terror, panic, excitement. It gave her more of a rush, proud of herself- she couldn't explain it.

And then she could hear other footsteps, coming towards them. She panicked, but swallowed her fear as she grabbed the knife from the ground and waited for them to open the ground.

As soon as the door opened, she launched herself at them, almost screeching inhumanly. They screamed from underneath her, cursing and attempting to shove her off from them but Presley managed to keep ahold of them long enough to bring down the rusted knife onto their eye socket. They went limp underneath her, finally stopping struggling as they realized what was happening and gurgled out something before their remaining eye dimmed.

Blood splattered onto her face, filling the opening over her mouth and clothes. She bit her lip, licking the blood off and smiled. She could think of every punishment she and everyone else had ever had from them- the beatings, whippings, forced humiliations.

Thinking about it made her feel better, but it made her feel sick. All the memories just flood back at her, causing her to have swallow back tears once again.

She looked at the supervisor, standing up over their body, analyzing every little bit of their body. The gaping hole allowed her to be able to see completely inside of her eye socket- it made her feel queasy. As much violence as she had seen, and done in the last few moments, she felt sick looking as a corpse. They were still in their pajamas, shoeless in a long, white nightgown that was similar to her own.

Presley forced herself to look away, unable to keep looking at the body. It felt different than locking her tormentor in a room with his dying wife and then setting in fire, she didn't have to look at the body afterwards. Even now, she could still hear the slight whimpering and crying of the headmaster in his office. The fire in there had to be getting bad- he'd be dying soon.

She had to cover her mouth, unable to continue breathing in the smoke. She made her way out of the room, gripping the knife in her hand as she finally found the stairway downstairs and slipped into the crowd of caretakers attempting to remove babies from their cradles and children unable to walk yet. Presley dropped the knife, letting it fall beside her with a long clang.

One finally noticed her, shrieking back in fear at the young blonde stained with blood. "Are you okay?" she grabbed at the girl, inspecting the girl's arm and face for the source of the blood. "How did this happen- where did you hurt yourself?" Her voice only got more panicked as she couldn't find the source, immediately grabbing at Presley's face. "Is this yours?"

Presley didn't answer. Instead, she let the silence speak for her.

The caretaker backed away from her, her eyes wide and terrified. She looked over Presley's shoulder, noticing that she had came from the stairway. The fire had completely consumed the stairway, slowly infecting the room they were in.

She grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exist with the other caretakers rushing out the remaining children in the orphanage. Presley wondered if she was doing this on impulse, or if it was mainly because she was going to scream for the orderlies to get the Peacekeepers.

Once they were outside and the caretaker screamed for an orderly, her eyes brightened up at the sight of the sight of it burning, smoke coming from open windows and the screams of the ones on the higher levels unable to escape.

Giggles filled her throat as people began noticing her, her lips in a wide smile. Her knees buckled forwards, falling as she used her free hand to cup her mouth again. Free. Free. They, me, all of us- we're free. We're free. All of us, forever. He.. he can't do a thing anymore- all of them. They can't. They're dead… like rats, and roaches, they were burned to death and they'll never be heard from again.

(some odd weeks later)

The door opened, revealing a tall, white coated man. Another doctor, she assumed. Her head hurt, the burns still felt raw and the morphine was wearing off. She just wanted to sleep more. Presley attempted to ask him to leave, but found herself unable to speak. She swallowed, though regretted it as her throat felt dry and unused.

And then she noticed her hands were free, the cuffs laying on the table next to her bed. She looked at her hands, purple and bruised- but free. Why did they unlock her?

"Hello, Presley." The man sat down on the edge of her bed, gently taping her leg. He smiled, his eyes gentle and filled with warmth that felt almost foreign to Presley. She eyed him curiously. "My name is Doctor Loomis. I'm sorry about what happened to you."

She wondered if he was honest about that.