About eight years after the fire, I was six-teen and was living a regular teenage life. I go to school everyday, but no one really ever talks to me... maybe because they think I'm weird. I live in a pretty shady place, there are a variety of people, drug addicts, psychos, people that follow you around until they feel like they shouldn't anymore, and my dad and I. My dad, Jon, is a blacksmith in Canada. He specializes in making, knives, sharp kitchen tools, and swords. My dad also works in a gun making facility. Everyday, somebody gets robbed in the neighborhood. Whether it's you, me, dad, or everyone else, there is always someone getting robbed. I can't walk to school everyday without protection, I would either get mugged, jumped, or worse... killed. So in my house there is a secret vault that no one knows of. My dad keeps all the knives, sharp kitchen tools, swords, and guns in that vault. My dad allows me to pick a knife (I usually choose a hatchet), and a gun (I usually choose a mini UZI). 

One day, I was walking to school, and I saw the most handsome boy. I wanted to talk to him so bad! He kept looking at me from the other side of the street. I decided to pretend like I never saw him. He suddenly stopped walking and looked both ways, he was going to walk over. I was thinking to myself "Don't do it! Don't you even dare." Not to mention, that all of the people here like to drive like they're in a race or something. I didn't want him to get hurt, so I just kept walking. I looked for a split second and saw him running towards me. When he reached me, I got shaky, overwhelmed, and nervous. He just started walking with me, and all I felt was the butterflies flying around in my stomach. The first thing I thought was, Don...what an amazing name.