A little girl sat in her room. Her messy brown hair was put into little pigtails, as her hazel eyes stared at the door. She hugged her stuffed giraffe close to her little body and listened closely to the loud yells of her father and mother.
"I never should have had any damned kids!" screamed a loud, deep voice. "All they do is make messes, complain, and draw on the walls!" He was interrupted by the shrill, angry yell of the girl's mother.
"They're children, David! They don't know any better!"
"Oh, fuck me, Marybeth! I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses! I've had just about enough of them!"
"And what do you plan to do about it?!" The girl heard loud footsteps coming towards her room, and she hugged her giraffe closer.
The door opened violently, and in the doorway stood her large, infuriated, overweight father. In one of his meaty hands, he held a large textbook.
"David, stop it!" screamed her mother.
But the father ignored his wife's pleading cries. He grabbed the little girl harshly by the collar, and she screamed and kicked, trembling in fear. The girl's father held up the textbook.
"This is for drawing on my fucking walls, you little bitch!"
* * * * * *
Years later, the little girl, known as Natalie, was now 9 years old. Going through the stage of puberty, she was naturally a little chubby. Like the usual, she sat in her room, watching TV. Her dad was ranting on about some economic crap that she really could give less a shit about, as she munched on some popcorn.
She was also currently drawing a picture. There was a bit of gore in it, but strangely, she really liked drawing blood. It gave her some weird satisfaction. Other than that, multitasking was no problem for her. It became apparent to her at a young age, after having to do so much hard work and labor, that she was able to do so many things at once. Drawing ended up being her talent and passion. It was her way from escaping from reality, whenever something bad would rear its ugly head and peer in, or when she was simply bored.
She suddenly heard the closing of her door, and looked to the left, pausing on munching on her popcorn. There stood her brother Lucas; who was 14 years old.
"What is it?" She could still hear her father's yelling from outside her door.
"Dad scaring you?" He let out a chuckle.
"No way. I think we're both used to his yelling by now." There was a long pause. "So, why are you in here?" He played with his sleeves slightly and twitched a bit.
"I have to ask you something." He trained his eyes on her. She frowned slightly, growing impatient with her brother interrupting her movie and drawing.
"What?" He moved a little closer. "You said you wanted to be cool and grown-up, like a teenager, right?" She nodded and suddenly brightened up slightly.
"Well, I have an offer."
"Just spit it out, you dimwit!"
"You know what... what guys and girls do together, sometimes... right?"
The next day at school, Natalie did not say a word. She did not speak for the whole day. she didn't have anyone to speak to anyways. Nobody could know. Nobody SHOULD know. And so, nobody would know. her teacher picked up on a few of her puzzled expressions, but she dismissed it as if she just did not understand the lesson. Natalie also felt as if she was in severe pain. She had no idea it could..hurt. Feeling scared, she walked home and silently went to her room. But later in the day, she was once again greeted by her brother. Nobody would know. At school, she finally decided to tell someone. Even though they weren't her friends, she just felt she had to. She walked up to the group of girls she would occasionally see in the hallway. They looked like nice girls, and they and Natalie had occasionally talked before.
