Ever since you were young, you were always considered a troublesome child. Always causing a path of destruction wherever you went. And as you got older, it only got worse.

By the age of sixteen, you were known as the local delinquent around your town. Always drinking, smoking, getting into fights. You've been in the back of a cop car so many times the officer's know you by your name.

It was no surprise to your parents when they got yet another call from the school. You had gotten into a fight, for the fourth time this week. Your behavior was getting out of hand, and they knew it. Instead of being met with disappointment and anger from your parents, they just told you to get in the car. As you got into the backseat, you noticed a suitcase beside you. When you asked about it, your mother only ignored you.

Almost two hours later, you and your parents had driven far from your town, now only surrounded by forest and occasional fields. Eventually, they pulled into a long driveway, leading up to what seemed to be a farmhouse.

Curiously, you got out of the car. Soon after, your father handed you the suitcase that had been in the backseat next to you. "This farmhouse belongs to an old friend of mine." He said. A feeling of dread washed over you, having an idea as to where this conversation was leading.

"You'll be staying with them, until your attitude shapes up." And shortly after that, they left you there and you were shown around the house by your father's 'old friend', Dave.

Since then you'd been hiding out in the barn all day, avoiding the family you were staying with. It was lunch time, and you thought you were going to be able to get out of chores before you heard a voice behind you.

"Y'know, sitting there sulkin' ain't doing you no good. Might as well make yourself useful, sweetheart." Colton, the son of your father's friend, said, leaning against the doorframe of the barn.