It was getting colder, almost too cold for September. Winter was creeping up on the streets of New York. Soft breezes had turned to wind that cut like knives and soothingly cool pavements were harsh and impossible to sleep on.

Of course, it could always be worse.

I had been repeating those words, whether it was in my head or out loud didn't matter, for the past year, for the past twelve years if I was being honest, ever since my dad died. It could be worse.

I wouldn't exactly say I'd had it easy as a kid. My dad died when I was three, I could hardly remember him and my mom didn't exactly like to talk about it. My dad's death drove my mom to the edge, she used to work at a nursery but she was fired after too many 'episodes' as they called them. We weren't exactly well off when my dad was around, but by the time I was five we had moved into a one-bedroom apartment and were living off benefits. We could rarely afford the electric and heat bills, showers were cold and fast and nights were awful without piles of blankets that I had stolen from shops during the winter. I never went to school, I stayed home and looked after my mom, I couldn't even read or write. I maintained the household as well as I could. I couldn't really make anything other than sandwiches but we couldn't afford enough for more than one each every day, so naturally, I was pretty small. I cleaned as much as I could and made sure mom showered and ate the little food I made.

My mom had a bit of a routine. A deathly silence, then screaming and yelling, then the crying. For maybe a day or two she'd be quiet, putting me on edge. For those days the house was filled with sick anticipation that drove me crazy. Then she'd snap. Yelling at me for hours, calling me every name under the sun. She would tell me I was useless and a burden and that my dad would have felt the same. I believed her. Then came the crying. She would cry for days, screaming if I came too close, telling me I was too much like my dad for her to handle. Then straight back to radio silence.

Tessa was my only salvation. My beautiful, brilliant Tessa. She was my first friend, I know now that I loved her. She was tall, with soft brown hair cut to her shoulders and big gray eyes. She taught me how to talk to people, well she tried, I have it pretty sorted out in my head but my mouth never says the right words. She was so kind and gentle with me, she was always there for me. I haven't seen her since I got kicked out a year ago.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I wish I could forget, but every time I close my eyes the scene plays like some sort of horror movie in my head.

"Livvy, sweetheart? We need to talk about something," I remember how shocked I was, she hadn't talked all day and it was rare for her to break the routine. I stopped what I was doing and turned to her, smiling the best I could.

"What?"

"There is a boy who comes and talks to you whenever you are out, right? Like, at the shops and when you sit on the steps," I remember being confused, how could she know about Colin? I nod at her, "You like him, don't you? He's kind to you isn't he?" I remember the frantic look in her eyes. I nodded again.

"Why it matters?" I ask, going back to sweeping up. She rarely showed interest in me, the sudden questions were very odd. She took a deep breath.

"You are going to marry him," I remember the first thing that came to my mind at that moment, Tessa.

"What, no, can't do that" I remember the feeling of panic that flooded me. Why did my mom want me to marry this random boy?

"Honey, listen to me. His dad is a man who owns a big business he has a lot of money, he's going to get us out of this awful apartment and give us real lives. He said he'd get you a tutor, you could learn to read and write and talk properly. All he wants is a pretty wife for his son and a nice charity story for the news," I remember the feeling of tears stinging my eyes.

"Mom, getting out is good, but marrying is bad. Don't love Colin,"

"Because you love Tessa?" I remember how freaked out I was, she never showed any interest in my personal life before, how the hell did she know any of this.

"W-What,"

"It's okay honey, I'm not stupid, I know about you two," I remember the anger that took over my body as tears poured down my face.

"No. No, you can't know, you are you. Mom is stupid, she doesn't see things like me and Tessa. You don't talk and you don't answer me when I talk. Was you lying?"

"No, listen-"

"No! If you see me and Tessa, you see me, and you see you making me crazy!"

"Livvy, listen to me!"

"And why you ask me to marry Colin if you see me and Tessa?!"

"You are being selfish!" I remember how I froze for a second when she said that before the anger came rushing back sevenfold.

"Me? No! You selfish! Ask me to marry Colin when you see me and Tessa, because you made mistakes after daddy died!" I remember the look of disgust on her face.

"Get out," I remember another sort of panic gripping me, "Get out of my house, I never want to see your ungrateful face again. If you do come back I might just accidentally leave the stove on over at Tessa's" I remember the horror I felt, and still feel at the idea. I remember how my feet felt like lead as she basically shoved me out of the door. I remember looking back at Tessa's door one last time before walking away.

"Oi mate is that the chick you told us about? The one that cant talk right and broke your nose?" A voice cuts through the regular chatter of the city, pulling me from my thoughts. I stand up quickly, wiping the tears from my face and composing myself. I cross my arms over my chest as the people walk closer to me.

"Her? But she's so tiny," A shrill voice says, giggling.

"Don't underestimate that psycho," I recognize this voice and I can't help but smirk.

"Hello Jason," I say, smiling innocently as he and his friends walk closer until they are only a few feet away from me.

Jason was a boy who lives in the building I lived outside of, far away from my old apartment. He was sixteen, one year older than me, and of average height, he was quite a bit taller than me but that was to be expected, I hardly looked the part of a 15-year-old girl, I hardly looked 13. Jason had tried to fight me about a month ago but I punched him pretty hard in the nose and he ran off, I guess I broke it. I had gotten pretty good at fighting over the past few years, I was strong enough to break bones if I hit the right place, and what I lacked in brute force I made up for in speed and flexibility.

"Good to see ya blondie," He growls out.

He's with two people today, a boy a little shorter than him but bulkier with a shaved head, and a girl with long black hair.

"Want?" I ask.

"I'm about ready for a rematch, what about you?" He asks, with a smug grin.

"Sounds fun!" I say, pretending to be excited. That was the trick, pretend to be crazy, it works every time, "But I already broke nose, want broken jaw too?" I say, grinning maliciously.

"Shut it, freak," The other boy says, stepping forward, Jason held out an arm to stop him.

"Back off Zach, you'll get your turn," I scoff a little and his gaze refocuses on me.

"Careful what you wish for," I say in a sing-song voice, like Tessa taught me, before my fist flies forward and collides with his jaw.

He stumbles backward and falls to the floor, semi-conscious. I laugh manically with wide eyes, clutching my stomach and folding over. I had the laugh mastered by now, it threw them off every time.

"You little brat," Zach says as the girl falls to the floor to help Jason.

Zach steps forward and I hear the familiar sound of a switchblade. A little panic floods my system but I keep the crazed grin firmly on my face. He rushes for me but before he can touch me I grab his outstretched hand and thrust my knee into his elbow. A very audible crack rings through the alley and he yells out, going slightly green. I laugh again. He grabs the knife with the other hand and goes for me again. I had to admit I was impressed, fighting with a broken arm couldn't be easy.

"Hey!" A yell comes from the end of the alley and I turn around to see the light of a flashlight. Just as I'm about to ask who he was I feel a sharp pain in my side. I turn back to Zach who has a smug look on his face, I don't have to look down to know what he did.

"You are coward," I say through my teeth. He scoffs and helps the girl pick up Jason, they run off down the other end of the alley and disappear around the corner. I hear footsteps from behind me and I desperately clutch at my side, trying no to lose too much blood. I feel dizzy and sick and I have to grab the wall to stop myself from falling over.

"Hey, kid. You okay?" A voice says, he walks around and stands in front of me. He was tall with a little muscle, soft-looking brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He had a police badge hanging around his neck and a gun shoved into a holster on his waist, telling me that he was an officer. I glance down and nod to my side. He looks down and his eyes widen at the blood seeping through my fingers, "Oh my god," he says, my heart rate picks up a little as he runs his hand through his hair.

He places one hand on my waist and another on my shoulder, guiding me into a sitting position against the wall. He moves my hand and uses his own to stop the flow of blood. He pulls out a weird speaker-looking thing. He holds down a button on it and moves it to his mouth.

"This is Detective Marriott we need an ambulance to the apartment building on the corner of Third and Waters Street." He says, the box mumbles something that I didn't hear back. He turns his attention back to me. "Hey kid, I'm Liam. You're going to be completely fine, I swear, there's an ambulance on its way, it'll be ten minutes, tops," I nod a little, and a wave of nausea hits me, I have to close my eyes for a second and focus on not throwing up, "Can you tell me your name?" He asks.

"Livia," I say, opening my eyes again.

"Okay Livia, where do you live?" He asks. I look around at the blankets strewn around me, he does the same and seems to connect the dots, "Oh, okay. Don't worry. Just hold on for a little longer," He says with an awkward smile. My head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton and my eyes close for a second, "can you tell me your second name, for the hospital records?"

"Brass," I mutter.

"Just a little longer," His voice sounds far away, and all echoey. I hear the blood rushing in my ears and my eyes get even heavier, "Come on Livia, stay awake for a little bit longer," I try my hardest but my eyes fall closed and I slump against the wall as I finally let myself drift out of consciousness.