Scott was running. He did not know what he had done to be chased, but it seemed to annoy someone pretty bad. Being abused was nothing new to him, but if there was another way he would do everything he could to get there, but alas that was not to be for the young boy of 12.

Scott had friendly, warm eyes that melted even the iciest person's heart. His auburn hair shone in the warm July sun of Normandy, France that went surprisingly well with his freckles and tanned skin. He had live there in Sainte-mere-eglise since his mother had moved him there so they could live with the monster of a stepfather, Honri Pavalova-Gasoline.

His mother was a hard-working, loving person that was paid far under than she deserved. His step-dad's beatings were small to begin with, hardly noticeable. It started with just a few hits that could play off as an accident. Then as his mother started working more hours he saw her less and less until the only adults he encountered were the teachers from the small school in the square next to the museum, his step-dad and the nice lady at the library.

Honri was a model person on the outside, caring, great with kids. That was just a faade. The world was fooled, that didn't hurt him what hurt him was that his mother was being fooled and played like a game of cards.