I do not own Gakuen Alice.

There's really only so much you can do until you really can't take it anymore. I put up with it for eighteen years. Well, it'd only been awful for ten years, but all eighteen had been bad. I'd finally had enough.

Your parents are supposed to raise you. Your parents are supposed to care for you and nurture you and stay up with you when you're sick, or wait up when you're out on your first date so you can tell them all about it when you get home. They're supposed to make supper and take you out on your birthday. They're supposed to hold you after your first heartbreak and give you the sex talk when you have your first real relationship. They're supposed to-

Okay, so the bottom line is, there are a lot of things parents are supposed to do for you.

My mom was in college when she had me. I was a big 'oopsie'. She got kicked out of her school and had to find an apartment on her own since my dad split the moment he found out she was pregnant (note: 'dad' is a term I use very loosely; I prefer to refer to him as 'the man who contributed half of his genetic material to me without my consent'.). Anyway, she moved in on her own and had to work her ass off to support me, which is an admirable factor until we reach the year I turned ten.

She'd been dating this guy for awhile. He'd been helpful. I'd actually kind of liked him. He made my mother less uptight and therefore easier to be around. But he died in a car accident, and everything kind of went downhill from there.

The first time she hit me, I was ten and a half. I'd just gotten home from school to find her half asleep on the couch in front of the TV with three empty beer bottles on the table and a mostly-empty bottle in her hand. She told me to clean up her mess, but I'd never seen her drink so openly before, so I just stood there, dumbfounded. Then she got up, stormed over to me, and slapped me.

It got worse. She worked less and drank more. The smallest things – from forgetting to put my dishes away to staying up until midnight reading – would set her off. She learned to avoid my face, though, when one of my teachers in sixth grade called home about my black eye.

And I became an expert at disguising the bruises and cuts and scratches.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. Sometimes when she was sober she'd see me and she'd start crying, and she'd hold me until her tears had soaked through my shirt and mumble about how much she loved me. She did it when she was drunk, too, and she was a little more of a basket case then. But I never believed her. Part of me always knew she hated me.

Because I'd ruined her life from the very beginning.

My mom isn't much of a mother. I don't even call her mom. To me, that word is just something that I'm obligated to call her around other people because she gave birth to me. But to me, she's Yuka. And that's only when she's sober enough that I can stand talking to her.

I got a job when I was fourteen, not because I wanted one or needed the money, but because I couldn't stand being at home. And I think a part of me always knew that one day I'd need the money to get out of this place. I just needed the opportune moment.

That moment came the day that I graduated.

I didn't attend the graduation ceremony. I told my principals that I was leaving for college too early. Of course, with me being an honours student with no evidence of a troubled life, they believed me.

I never had friends. Over the years, I knew it was dangerous to let people into my life. Despite my fun-loving personality that mostly drew people in, I kept everyone at an arms-length. I was kind of a walking contradiction.

Now, I wouldn't have to worry about anyone wondering where I had gone.

I'd given my two weeks notice at the coffee shop I'd worked at up until now. They'd been sad to see me go, since half of the customers that went there went there to have me wait on them, but they couldn't stop me. I'd bought my bus ticket in advanced, and I was getting away from here.

A one way ticket to anywhere. Anywhere but here.

A/N: Hello, dear readers! This is the prologue to the newest story I've decided to write! I hope to be more diligent with uploading this one, but no promises. :) I'm a bit ahead on the writing already, but I'm going to pace myself with the posting otherwise you'll end up waiting longer than necessary for the next chapters!

The whole reason I've decided to start this is because I had the fortunate luck (note my sarcasm) of having my wisdom teeth removed this past week and really all I've been doing is sleeping and writing because there's no point in putting effort into my school work when I'm loopy from the tylenol 3s. I figured writing was a safe route to take!

This first chapter is very vague, but whenever I get around to posting the next chapter, things will clear up a bit!

Pleace review!