Raye pulled away from Edward and ran towards the wall opposite from her family. She pressed herself against the wall and tried her best to look tall.

"Oh, nice one, Raye, now you made it easier for them to get you!" Raye thought furiously.

The family began to close in on her, drawing a wide circle around her that she couldn't escape. 

Raye realized her only hope was to fight her way out. But she couldn't bring herself to raise a hand to her own flesh and blood. She just couldn't. She slunk back against the wall, unable to bring herself to do much anything.

"OK, guys, STOP IT ALREADY!" Johnny shouted suddenly.

Raye turned to look at Johnny. Kevin and the others did as well. Johnny NEVER yelled. Mary claimed he didn't even cry much after he was born. And now he was shouting.

"Stop what?" Kevin asked.

"Freaking her out! Whatever you are doing, stop it!" Johnny snapped.

"Well, it's YOUR fault I have to do this!" Kevin argued.

"How the hey is this MY fault?!" Johnny shouted.

"You gave the game away! You told her our personaes!" Kevin bellowed.

"Well, you should have supressed her memory, you dummy!" Johnny retorted.

"OK, why don't you both shut the f-" Raye cursed.

She barely had time to react before she felt a sharp pain rocking through her cheek. She fell to her knees, her cheek still stinging. Tears filled her eyes to the brim.

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO WATCH THAT MOUTH OF YOURS- Oh... Oh, no... Raye... Forgive me..." Kevin stuttered.

Raye stood up and pushed her brother out of the way.

"Raychel, WAIT! I didn't mean to! Oh, Raye..." Kevin panted, trying to hold back tears. "I'm sorry..."

Raychel ran up the stairs and to her room, slamming the door shut. She sobbed openly then, sad and angry and hurt and scared.

Her own brother had hit her. When she couldn't bring herself to hit him.

And yes, she knew she deserved it, and she had been popped before. But this was an actual slap. One of pure hate and rage.

Raye looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still bloodshot. Her cheek was red and blotchy. Her right hand was covered in thick white gauze.

She turned away from her reflection. She didn't want to look at herself like this anymore. Not as blood to those monsters downstairs.

She looked on her warrobe. Her father's hunting knife, one of the things salvaged from the demolished car's glove compartment that she got to keep.

Then she got an idea.


"Raychel? Can we talk?" Kevin sighed, and knocked on the door. He knocked again. "Raychel? Raye? 'Lil sis?"

Kevin tried the doorknob, and it worked. He walked in, and found Raye's nightclothes on the floor. She usually left her dressers open, but this time they were untouched.

And the window was open.

"Oh, no!" Kevin gasped. He ran downstairs and hollred, "Call for a meeting! Raychel's gone! RAYCHEL'S GONE!!"

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