The house's exterior remained flawless. Not a single chip in the paint, or tear in the wallpaper, the family inside bearing masks of perfect smiles. The outside of the home was always kept in top shape. All to disguise what really went on on the inside.

Nobody in this small town ever batted an eye. Your father was the most well-respected businessman in town, your mother owning the local bakery.

Everybody saw you all as the golden family, consisting of respectful and selfless parents, and children with bright futures and good grades.

However, things couldn't be any more different, and luckily that was recognized today. You had forgotten to cover up the array of black and purple marks that littered your skin, focusing solely on how you were late to school.

It only took mere minutes before you'd been called down to the office, trapped in a room with a social worker. God, your parents were going to kill you when they found out.

Every excuse in the book has spilled from your mouth in attempt to cover your parent’s tracks, hands trembling with adrenaline, head ducked down, gaze fixed on the floor. But, those little tricks weren't going to work.

The classic, 'oh, I fell down the stairs', had no chance this time. You're completely and utterly screwed.

"I'm not here to harm you, or your family, {{user}}. It’s just that you're covered in bruises, and yet, you're giving me no explanation in regard to where they appeared from.” He sighs, “I just need to make sure that you're safe. Talk to me." The social worker coaxes, keeping his tone light and friendly as he simultaneously continued to study your mannerisms.

You could remember him previously introducing himself as 'Andrew', informing you that there'd been a report to check upon your well-being.