Don't Speak, Don't Say A Word

"Good morning Mr. Snuggles....." I barely muttered that out before a yawn worked its way out of my mouth, smiling down at my stuffed cat toy. I had always loved it...I guess because it reminded me of when my family was still in one piece. Before 'they' started happening every other day.

I didn't like thinking about it too much, so I blinked rapidly to get rid of the thoughts before springing up into a sitting position. What to do today.... No classes meant no annoying old people. I hope Myka hasn't raped Xander yet. Well that came from absolutely no where. I couldn't help but worry for the little guy though. They normally didn't room anyone with someone like Myka because of his nature....and the neko didn't exactly look strong enough to be able to fight him off yet

My nose twitched lightly before I closed my eyes and let out a sneeze, my wings flying out and smacking Mitchell in the face. I couldn't resist, and instantly bursted into a fit of giggles, gripping my sides lightly while trying to stop. I didn't know if it woke him up or not, but if it didn't, it only proved my point that he could sleep through almost everything.

As soon as my giggle fest was over, I jumped up and stretched, skipping over to my suitcase and began tossing things everywhere until I could find what I wanted. I knew the vampire would get mad at me later for already trashing the room, but he never stayed mad at me for too long.

I finally settled on a simple pair of black jeans and a bright yellow shirt before bouncing back over to the bed, launching myself so that I was sitting on Mitchell, wiggling around and bouncing up and down to hopefully wake him up. All I got was a groan in return and a small 'Let me sleep dammit.' before he rolled over so he was now on his stomach, making me squeak as I went to the floor.

A small pout settled on my face before I flapped my wings and went back to sitting on his back only a second later.

"BITCHY MITCHY~ I'm bored...." I whined slightly, contiuously bouncing up and down and not showing any sign of stopping soon. I knew he was probably tired, but I couldn't help it. I was bored, and too afraid to venture to Myka's room alone. The last time I did, Zeke and his idiots almost ripped my right wing off....literally.

I got a grunt in reply but no movement, making my wings droop and a sigh leave my lips. I loved my Mitchy...I know he was tired and all, but I wanted him to be awake and to entertain me. If not, I'd think about all the pain I endured during the summer time. I had tried to convince the school to let me stay all summer, but it was no use. The dean said he would have loved keeping it open through the summer for everyone, but there just weren't enough fundings to be able to do that without going in debt. It was a risky move just to get the buses to take people home and pick them up. It ensured the safety of the students for maybe a few minutes, but it was better than sending them home and them getting hurt right away.

I shivered slightly at my memory of my own 'welcome home' present. A whimper left my mouth involuntarily, a surprised gasp coming soon after when Mitchy shot up right from the noise with a worried expression on his face. I soon found myself face first in his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me, my eyes blinking for a few seconds before they closed contently. So maybe home wasn't the best, at least Mitchy was here to protect me as best as he could.

~~~~~Xander's POV~~~~~

A yawn left my mouth, my tail sticking straight out and my ears twitching rapidly as I woke up, my nose wiggling a little as well. My wrists turned a little until I felt a small pop, my eyes slowly fluttering open after my daily stretching was done. Sue me, I'm part cat. It took a minute or so until I was finally awake, and my eyes snapped open and my face turned bright red at what I saw.

I was face to face with the chest of someone......I didn't know whether to fear my life or be happy.

I jumped back though, managing to slip right out of his arms without him noticing though. Thank god for cat genes....I could make myself skinnier if needed.

I scooted back across the floor until my back collided with my own bed, climbing up onto it and diving underneath the covers, my head poking out just barely so I could see if I had in fact woke him up. After I was sure that he was still sound asleep, I wormed my way out of my blanket cocoon, crawling along the floor on all fours to not make any sound.

I reached the dresser, shuffling through my jeans and shirts til I found what I was looking for and made my way towards the bathroom now, flinching a little as my hands and knees met the cold tile floor. It felt like the floor was made of ice or some other equally cold material. I shut the door and locked it, biting my lip with one of my tiny fangs when the lock made a small click sound.

I was up in a flash, turning on the shower after shutting the curtain and began waiting til the water warmed up til where it could easily burn someone. I liked it that way. Call me stupid, selfish, I don't care what you say, I burned myself. It started back when I was just a small thirteen year old who had turned the knob of the water on too high. I had jumped in and yelped when the scalding hot water hit my back. From that day forward though, I was addicted.

I wasn't stupid though, I only did it once a week or so, depending on how I felt. From the time I was little, my parents had implanted the thought in my head that I was horrible, didn't deserve anything good, and shouldn't think that someone could ever like me. And that's what I thought. That's why I was about to burn myself with the warm water yet again. I had thought for a split second yesterday that maybe, just maybe, I was about to make friends.

I'm such an idiot.

With that thought, I jumped in the extremely hot water, biting my lip fiercely as I felt it burning another mark into my back. Life was hell, hell was hot. If I couldn't stand this, then I couldn't stand life.

I knew the room was filled with steam by now, I could hardly see a few inches in front of me to begin with, but I ignored it and began scrubbing at my skin, trying to erase the scars that littered my arms.

'Ugly!' 'Worthless!' 'Bastard!'

They were just a few things the marks said. I even had the word 'Ugly' carved into chest. I had made my dad too angry one day and he had taken a piece of glass to me. He cut not deep enough to hurt me too bad, just deep enough to leave the white scar that clearly said that word.

I was ugly, I was worthless, I may as well have been a bastard.