"I woke up from a nightmare and needed to get up and walk around. Writing down a note to explain that I'd not run away, as they seem inclined to believe I would, I go out and pace the hallway of the room in Wolf Cabin, where we're staying in. I don't know how long I'd been pacing, but my..." I frown. Well, he wasn't really a friend anymore, was he? Team Adult never was. I should have known, "The principal to my school, who I am familiar with due to working with him as an assistant, came and got me, as we had met up the day before and he had become familiar with my parents, who believed I'd listen to him more than I do them."

"Believed?" Mr. Sterns asked, not pausing in his writing but glancing up anyway.

"I listen to logic," I confirmed, "If the- the principal to my school-"

"John Summers, I believe his name is," Mr. Sterns offered up after realizing I didn't know his name, "He didn't know your name either. Must not be as close as he claimed you were."

I gave Mr. Sterns an amused look, "Mr. Sterns, if you saw and knew that kids were being abused and still led them to their abusers, knowing that CPS has ruled it self-defence or accidental time and again before, I don't believe any of my family would wish to be close. My family being the visibly bruised ones, the rest are... Guardians and relatives, I'd have to say. Anyway, if Mr. John Summers asked or told me to do the same or similar things as my guardians do, then I'd not listen to him any more than I would my guardians. Likewise, if my guardians made any sense, I'd listen to them."

"Right..." He finished his writing before he continued, "Continue your day, please."

"Right, sorry. I've digressed. The- Mr. John Summers had grabbed me and thrown me into his room. I presumed he was quite irritated at being woken up because my guardians didn't bother glancing out of their door. As, I was, in fact, pacing in direct vision of the room. After a small conversation with the- Mr. John Summers-"

"Do you just always refer to him as the principal?" Mr. Sterns asked, sounding more curious than actually like he needed to know.

"I refer to him as The Master. I am... unused to referring to him in any other way. Seeing as he wasn't as trusting of me as I first presumed, I am doing my best to refer to him as... detatched, yet disrespectfully, as possible," I explained fully. Might as well tell everything. If this dude didn't think we needed to be placed somewhere else, we'd certainly be getting more bruises, and possibly darker and worse wounds as well.

"You think referring to him as Mr. John Summers is disrespectful?" Mr. Sterns queried.

"As he accepted my claim of our friendship previously, referring to him as John, whilst typically disrespectful for a kid to call any adult working in a school by their first name, would simply be seen as a sign of mutual respect. You don't see anyone close refer to someone by their full name. It's just me being petty," I shrugged, "As kids are wont to do."

Mr. Sterns wrote some more stuff down, giving me a searching look, before nodding for me to go on.

"Right. After a small conversation with him, he dragged me the three doors it was to my parents, and I was reaquainted with my family. Wherein I learned that Elise and Glen, my guardians, had explained in close detail exactly how they would kill us. At the time, I had only known that all of my siblings thought that they were going to kill them. My youngest brother, Don, was shocked into silence. He wasn't able to speak for half an hour after the event, which I'm sure there was one. If you know retards, I'm sure you can understand how utterly terrifying it was to me to have my loudest brother who never shut up unable to speak," I shrugged at his look, "So, Mr. Principal walked over, explaining that we were going with him to the waterpark, and that our guardians were going to the bar for a drink. When we got to the waterpark, I was told in more detail with as much accuracy as kids can give exactly what my guardians said."

"What did they say, do you remember?"

"I only know what I was told, but my mother had been explaining how she'd enjoy throwing me down the stairs, or forcing me to fall off of the waterride known as the Tornado and run over me. Glen then piped up with a suggestion to just shoot us. Elise and Glen then spent about half an hour just talking about the details. That or they spoke very quickly," I shrugged again, "It was a lot of words. They then spoke pricing. I believe some details were left out, but they then attacked Don when he made too much noise, thus shocking him into silence. At the time, as I was listening to the explanation, I picked apart exaggerations and did my best to seperate truth from false. I had... Freaked out, I guess you could say, after that. It lasted a little over a minute, but I had a vivid vision of them bringing the guns with them into the waterpark and taking us out one by one as everyone including us freaked out and tried running or hiding."

"A vision?"

"Yes. I don't claim to be psychic or know the future. I was just encased in panic, and my mind presumably made up what might happen if they had brought guns. Everyone died besides those two, though Monica presumably only died due to not knowing exactly what was going on. She is almost as bad as Elise and Glen are when it comes to abuse. I had... Brain damage. Before. It healed. The principal," The title rolled smoothly off my tongue, and I realized just how easy it had become during the conversation, "Had experienced me... Freaking out. Like, flailing limbs dangerous to everyone around including myself freaking out. Because I couldn't... Speak... Right. So when he came back and saw me freaking out in a minor way, he presumed I was about to have a major freak out," I shook my head at my own words, not knowing how else to put it, "And tried calming me down. My brother brought me out of my panic, and I mistakenly shared our plan with him. After realizing that he, like everyone else above the age of eighteen, thought I was just being an overexaggerating paranoid child, I lied to him and we made our escape. We then hung out at the arcade, up, and when we saw the police and our parents, we quickly made a plan, and when they left, not having found us, we attempted to execute our plan."

"Up? What does that mean?"

"Rule number one of stealth," I said flatly, "No one ever looks up, or if they do it is very rare. Er, after that, I managed to avoid the police, but the principal managed to take me down, and got dragged here. End of story."

Mr. Sterns wrote down a few more things, and nodded at a few parts. After about a minute he finished with what he was writing.

"Right. That lines up with the other stories pretty well. You downplay your role in decision-making, though. Why is that?"

"You mean how I had given plans and they had accepted them?" I shrugged, "I am pretty good at making plans. If someone had any better plans, or offered a course of action more logical than my own, I'd have voted for that."

"Right," He wrote that down, "Okay. Can you explain what caused those bruises?"

"Being shoved down stairs. Tripped. Grabbed too roughly. Hit by various objects so obviously on purpose, but of course could be blamed as being an accident. I..." I trailed off, not really knowing what else to say. I hope you can actually do something? I hope you're not an idiot? It just... Made no sense. I couldn't do anything, or say anything to make it better, or up our chances.

"They never directly hit you?"

"I almost wish they had," I muttered to myself as I shook my head.

"You almost wish they had? Why?" Mr. Sterns asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

I met his eyes, feeling miserably tired and world-weary, "If they hit us directly, then this would be an open shut case. You'd be able to say that we were being abused. They'd go before a judge and get charged. The gun they bought would be seen as an easy method of fearmongering or actual plans to murder us all. We'd go literally anywhere else, and my siblings wouldn't be hurt or... Or look so broken," I ended in a whisper, not realizing that my traumatized gaze on the table probably made me look broken too.

I didn't mind, though. I've always been broken, this timeline. They didn't need to be. It was my fault, and I hated it. I hated it all so fucking much. Why the hell couldn't I get a single fucking break? Why the fuck couldn't this timeline just be rainbows and jolly ranchers? Instead it was a load of horse shit that every adult saw as unicorn droppings for some reason. Sure, great, we had a nice house. Sure, great, we had new clothes, and were fed well. Or, at least, my siblings were. We went to good schools, and lived picture-perfect lives. Minus the bruises that were too plentiful for everyone to brush off as being truly accidents. Especially when the people saying they were accidents were fucking spotless. I had absolutely no faith in the justice system anymore. Or in the world, really. I'm kind of looking forward to World War 3, now that I think of it. We'll all burn, as we were supposed to be. Hopefully we aren't the only life in the universe, because the life on Earth is cursed, and needs to be eradicated. I'd happily do my best to make World War 3- or, well, 2, in this timeline- happen as soon as it physically could. Maybe make a North Korean bot made using Russian coding and using a VPN making it seem like it was made in China to antagonize Trump. Surely if his pride was attacked for long enough and noticably enough he'd attack back. Or I'd hack into their systems as best I could and just start Nuclear War my-fucking-self.

"That's true," Mr. Sterns answered to something I'd long forgotten about, "But I'll try my hardest to get you five out of there. I swear."

I gave him a painfully obvious fake smile, "Thanks."

Mr. Sterns gave me a sad look, before smiling back kindly, "I hope I can surprise you with a good outcome."

"I know the laws here. Unless you get evidence better than five eyewitness accounts, such as video or audio, then your hands are more tied than Houdini's were in his most impossible escape," I explained dryly, smile falling, "At best I can try to piss off my parents enough for them to shove me down the stairs in Wolf Cabin, where there are cameras recording everywhere, or the middle school I should've graduated from by now."

"You're only thirteen, I thought?"

"I could take the GEDs and pass them with above-flying colors," I explained, "If I leave, I'll possibly take a test and see if I can do online schooling, so that I can graduate early and get into college early too. Maybe become a lawyer for kids or something, with how well I know and have traversed the laws about them."

Mr. Sterns gave me an amused look, "If I do manage to pull together enough of a case, I believe I'll try adopting you. I have a foster care liscense and everything."

I observed him for a moment, before slowly nodding, with a small and less noticably fake smile, "I look forward to it." If the principal was still my friend, I'd have bet him all my wealth on the dude getting arrested in the next decade for doing something disturbingly illegal.

No evidence was able to be made that summer, as I expected, and eighth grade started with all of us terrified and Elise making gun threats very often. My grades in everything except Geometry dropped, though I was still passing, and it was clear I'd given up. I was still the principal's assistant, and Mr. Sterns spent a concerning amount of time speaking to me. He was now officially on our case, and seemed to take my side more than the adults. Not... Not our side, either. He disconcerted me, and I wondered if I was just being paranoid or if there was actually something wrong with the man.