Ann Marie looked up into the sky, which stood a content black with speckles of bright white stars covered by an errie layer of clouds. The moon was full and an ominous feeling flooded over her as a the crisp fall air penetrated her stripped black and grey hoodie. Her fine black-brown hair blew around her face, which was dusted with light freckles. Ann Marie's face stayed content, her amber eyes tired and drooping with deep purple wrinkles.

"You should come in," A sweet as honey but troubled voice called from behind her. Ann Marie turned around, to see her mother's young face look older, tearstained and exasperated. Black steaks lined her thin, almost see-through cheeks. Bruises covered her arms. Her father was drunk, and angry.

"I don't want to." Anne Marie muttered, turning around to face the city lights once more. She could feel her mother's boney hands wrap around her own thin shoulders and smile lightly, meekly.

"I think you should come in. He's asleep now. You're fine." she soothed, fondling her as she sat down on the ledge next to her. Her mother's lanky legs hung over the side of the ledge, barely brushing the tops of the trees lining the west side of their house.

"He's hurt you," Anee Marie frowned, seeing her mother's tattered face in the glowering moonlight shown what damage he'd acctually done to her. Emotional more than anything.

Her father may be drunk more often than he was sober, but he wasn't stupid. If he hit her in the face, people would suspect something. But if he hit her where clothing wuld cover, and someone happened to see, she'd admit she was clumsy, which used to be hard to belive.

Her mother, Akaiya, was full Eyptian, used to be that perfect fit between thin and too thin, had all the curves in the right places, a perfectly porpotrioned mother of three. She had an olive skin tone, long, fine black hair that drapped to the sides of her face and frammed her now meager cheeks. now, she was just this thin, depressed-looking woman who'd looked more like 60 than 32.

Ann Marie's freckles came from her father, who was a small percent Irish, mostly American, and little Viatnamese. He was muscular, not to the extreme but he was fit, with blonde greasy curls matted to the top of his head, usually covered by a hard-hat or basebal cap, and had dark brown eyes. His name had been Adam, but he changed it to Samuel a few years backbecause that was his favorite type of beer. He drank all the time, passed out on the couch with an envelope containing just enough for rent and groceries, and left for the next week or so. Not that Ann Marie cared. Her older brother Nicholas had been more a father than him.

Nicholas had taken her to and from school since he got his temps, fed her dinner and helped her with homework and even took her out to eat on her birthday. He'd always tellAnn Marie she was pretty and special, but also that she needed to work harder in school. And so she did, just to please him, and now was a staight A student. She could remeber waht he said as soon as she brought home the all the A's on the repot card she got, "Good job, sis. I knew you could do it. Congratulations." She smiled so big that she thought her cheeks might burst.

He was gorgeous, there was no way in denying it. He had curly black hair, emerald green eyes that shown beautifully in any type of light, a fit structure and was that perfect hight where you barely had to use your tip-toes if you wanted to kiss. His skin was paler than most, but not sickly like Ann Marie's, who'd been called Gothy so many times she got used to responding to the name.

Ann Maire sighed, "Okay. Fine. How much did he leave us?" She asked, looking into her mother's deep blue eyes. At least they still looked pretty. They looked tormented, distressed and harassed, but still in-tact.

A frown formed at the corner of her pale pink lips, "none. he's kicking us out. Me, you, and Nicholas."

Ann Marie stood up imediately, "What!" She screamed, outraged by her father's rash decision, "He-He can't do that! Mom! You have to-"

"Sweetheart, you know I can't do anything. His name is on the deed, pays for the rent, it's his house." She sighed, quivering slightly.

Ann Marie exhaled and sat back down, her eyes still wide in fear. "We're going to be homeless," she breated so quiet, it was almost as if nothing had been said, "Homless and stuck with him. he'll still come by, won't he," It was more of a saddened statment that a question.

"Yes." He mother said, bitting her bottom lip.

"Akaia!" Her father raged from the kitchen. A glass broke against a wall.

Ann Marie flipped open her cellphone, the one her father hadn't convinscated. "I'll call the police."

"Please do. Comming, Samuel!" she called out, taking a deep, collective sigh and kissing Ann Marie's head. "I love you," she mouthed, before rushing downstairs.

Ann Marie took a good look at the phone and dialed the first didget, 9. She took a sharp breathe in and typed the rest and waited. The first step was always the hardest and worst, but in this case, hearing the lady's voice say, "Hello, this is Mariann from St. Claire's Hospital, what's your emergency?" brought comfort to her for the first time in years.