Sometimes the weirdest things happen for a reason...and it's usually the best reason of all- L.R.J.

It was a rainy Tuesday morning, about 5 in the morning. The dark stormy grey clouds just hanging over the city, making the streets seem just that little bit darker and more scary looking. Small crystal shaped droplets started falling form the sky, and very soon they became big fat droplets of water, that stung on impact with the skin. And it wasn't a light drizzle either; no it was a absolute waterfall of rain. Coincidently, this is just the type of situation I always seem to find myself in.

My name is a long one, but in it's full length I'm called Lolita Roxanna Joyce. There isn't anything really pretty about me: shoulder length strawberry blond hair, clear pale-ish skin, clear big blue eyes, and what most people would say a cute anime-type face. My favorite clothes to wear is a red tartan skirt that goes to mid-thigh length, black and white striped leggins, calf high buckle-strap boots. To keep my skirt up (since I'm a little on the under nourished side) I wear a simple black belt. On top I wear a baby blue tank top, and over that a black hoodie jacket with fur along the inside of the hood to keep my head warm. I also wear a blood red strip of material around my neck, to hide a scar that I don't like most people seeing.

Now I bet you're wondering: what's a girl like me doing out in the rain, doing nothing but walking and getting soaked to the bone? Well I'll tell you, just don't get to freaked out...

I'm hoping to die.

See, if I go home I'm most likely to face a drunken father who does nothing but beats me with his belt, or my high-on-ice-mother, who'll come after me with a kitchen knife. Or possibly both. So yeah; not a pretty family. That's why I try and spend as much time as I can away from home so I don't have to go back to that place. But then again, there was always a way for me to find myself trudging through the front door, timidly, and calling out if my parents were home...

As I found myself doing at this precise point in time.

"Hello?" I called quietly, "Mommy, daddy?" How pitiful; a 17 year old who still calls her parents 'mommy and daddy'. I took a tiny little step into the house, just as there was an almighty crash from the floor upstairs. I flinched at the sound, instantly my hands flew to cover my head. I always reacted like this when a noise like that happens. I pulled my hands away from my head, just in time to see my drunken father and high-off-her-face mother coming down the stairs, swaying and speaking in their usual drunken slur. I honestly couldn't see my resemblance from them anymore: they used to be clean freaks, but after an accident, they've become...well, this. Then my father noticed that I was home.

I couldn't remember what came first; the half empty bottle of vodka, or the china tea pot. Either way, something clipped my shoulder, then something grabbed my arm and yanked me forward, throwing me to the floor. I whimpered when the splintered wooden floor bit into exposed flesh on my body before chancing a glance over my shoulder and up. My parents were in another drunken/drug induced rage; and this time it felt a little different. This time, it felt like I really was going to die.

They began to beat me; my mother used the trusty kitchen knife while my father whipped at me like a disobedient dog. I cried each time they hurt me, but soon the tears and sobs died in my throat as the pain started to rise. I realized soon enough that the beatings they gave me, and the lack of food I had to choose from, where making my body weak. So weak that I felt something wet coming from my arms, legs and back. I curled into a fetal position on the floor, shielding my head with my arms. I couldn't really make out what my parents were saying, it was all a faint slur of words to me now. Before my eyes grew too dark to see from, there was a bright flash of light which engulfed everything. Then a sudden yet re-assuring warmth passed over my body. Maybe this was it. Maybe I had actually died and now passed over to the other side. I let out a small, fragile sounding whimper as I screwed my eyes shut, afraid to see what new things awaited me.