Well, here goes for the first chapter! Lemme know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII, or any of the characters!

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The first time was like this.

I was at home, laying on the top bunk of my bunk-bed, reading a book. It wasn't anything for school, just a used book I picked up from the store on the way home. It was some fantasy setting where a peasant found out he could use magic, and he ended up saving the world. It was decent, but not amazing.

I was almost done with the chapter when I heard the garage door open downstairs. Shit. I hadn't raked the leaves outside.

"Cloud!" I heard my dad yell; he was drunk. I scrambled out of my bed and jumped to the floor, quickly opening the door as I heard my father's clunky feet clamber up the stairs. "Why the fuck aren't the leaves raked? And where's dinner?"

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and I instinctively recoiled to get away from the stench. He grabbed my collar and yanked me forward. "Answer me, boy!" Then he threw me back, where I collided with the all, busting my head on a nail that was left out from an old picture that must have fallen.

Pain exploded in my head, and I saw stars, but I kept myself from crying out. "Sorry dad! I'll do it right now!"

"I don't think so. You know I like dinner ready when I get home," He growled, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

"Dad! You promised no more belt!" I cried out now. I was scared. Whenever I disobeyed my dad's rules when he was drunk, he would whip me with the buckle of his belt, hard.

My dad grunted but didn't voice a response, merely grabbing me to turn me around. I don't think he cared about the blood that flowed from my new cut in my head. I heard the belt clang as he pulled his arm back, and I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the pain.

The pain never came, and soon everything was silent. I cracked open an eye, afraid my dad hit me so hard I was dead.

Nope, still in the hallway of my house. I turned around slowly, and that's when I yelped in surprise.

My dad was there, frozen in midswing. The belt hung in the air, not moving, completely ignoring the laws of gravity. The snarl on my dad's face was now permanent and easy to see, and it made me mad. I was tempted to just grab him and shove his immovable body down the stairs, but I didn't.

I stepped slowly around him, still dazed by what was going on. When I was sure that he definitely wasn't moving, I turned my back to him and hurried down the stairs to the bathroom. I needed to find something to stem the bleeding.

The first thing I did was grab a washcloth hanging from a rack near the shower, and pressed it against the back of my head. I winced, but kept pushing. I was afraid to pull away the towel, so I didn't; I just worked one handed.

I opened the medicine cabinet and rifled around, trying to find if we had any hydrogen peroxide. I found a small bottle, almost empty. I hoped it would be enough. I removed the towel and glanced at it. It was a dark red, and I screwed my eyes up so I wouldn't faint. I was always squeamish.

I threw the towel into the bath and grabbed a new one, dumping some hydrogen peroxide on it. After I applied it to the towel, I gently touched the back of my head. I cried out in pain, but soon enough I controlled myself, gently rubbing around to make sure the wound was clean. For all I knew the nail was rusty, and my dad didn't care enough to get me a Tetanus vaccination.

Once it was completely clean, I grabbed another towel and wrapped it around my head; the bleeding hadn't stopped yet and I didn't want to walk around with blood flowing down my back. Eventually I had my bandage all made up.

"What the fuck!" I heard my dad yell from the top of the stairs. "Where the hell did you go?"

I froze. What happened? I wasn't sure. One moment my dad was frozen, and now he was moving again, yelling. I was afraid. The beating I would get now would be even worse than the one I was about to get earlier.

I tried to quietly open the door to the bathroom, but it creaked. Loudly.

"You little fucker," my dad snarled as he glared down the stairs at me. He had the belt in his hand; now it was hanging loosely towards the ground, obeying the laws of physics.

"I didn't do anything! Honest!" I tried to protest, but I knew it was no use.

My dad came down the stairs, slowly but deliberately. He raised the belt again, and I shut my eyes, trying to make him freeze.

I ducked out of the way just in case, and I'm glad I did. Time continued on as normal and the belt crashed against the ground, nicking the wood floor.

I tried clearing my head; my thoughts were so focused on one thing last time that may have did it. I tried to be as zen as possible with my dad about to beat me to a pulp.

It worked. Time froze again, and my dad stood still, crouched over, belt against the ground, bouncing upwards slightly, defying gravity.

I was still a little freaked that I could actually stop time, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that. It was time.

I had contemplated running away from home for a while, but there was never a good opportunity and I was always a little afraid of the unknown and a little hopeful of my dad maybe turning around. Well, I knew now that my dad would never get sober, and since I could apparently stop time, why be afraid of the unknown?

I jogged up the stairs to my room; I needed to pack a few essentials. I dug through my drawers and fished out two pairs of jeans and four t-shirts. That would have to do. I also grabbed a picture of my mom off my dresser and stuffed it in the small duffel bag I procured from underneath my bed.

I checked my wallet in my back pocket. Only thirty-five dollars. Damn, I thought. I would need more than that. There was one thing I could do, but it would mean digging through my frozen dad's pockets.

Fun.

I walked down the stairs slowly this time, afraid that time would resume any minute.

I made it to my dad without any trouble. His face was still frozen with the same angry expression, and the belt was still hovering over the ground.

I dug into my dad's back pocket, feeling for a wallet. I felt a little dirty, and disgusted. It had to be done though. After about three seconds (though it felt like an hour) I grabbed the leather wallet and pulled it out and opened it.

Inside there was a credit card (that was out of the picture; my dad would be able to trace me), and a couple twenties. I wondered if that would be enough to cover a bus ticket. I felt around a little more, and I found a hidden compartment, containing a small wad of hundred dollar bills.

There were twenty of them.

I couldn't help but let a small growl escape my lips. That son of a bitch. I wore second hand clothes and had to scrape together lunch money from change in the couch, and I was forced to do chores for no pay, and my dad had this stuffed away. I took it all and placed it into my own wallet.

I didn't bother putting my dad's own wallet back, instead, putting it on the floor in front of him. Good, make him wonder.

I hoisted the duffel bag off the wood floor and tucked it over my shoulder before giving my dad a half-hearted mock wave and exiting out the front door, just a few feet away from the stairs.

When I stepped outside I stopped in shock. There were cars in the street, two kids tossing a ball across the street, and a lady walking her dog directly in front of my house. Everything was frozen solid.

I shook my head, my blonde hair falling in front of my face. I brushed it aside and began to walk towards the nearest bus station I knew, a mile and a half away.

I could have taken my dad's car, but I didn't want to deal with him calling the police and them finding it at the bus station. It wouldn't be too hard to ask around for which ticket a boy with hair like a chocobo bought.

So I walked. Leisurely, too. I had to admit, it was nice walking with everything completely silent.

About halfway to the bus station I became thirsty and a little hungry, so I stepped into the nearest gas station. Again, everyone was frozen. Although I saw everything outside, it was still a little disconcerting to see an exchange going on, money frozen as it passed hands.

Thinking about it, I realized I could easily take all the money from the register and pocket it, and walk out without anyone the wiser.

I could be the world's greatest thief. Unless of course, other people could stop time, which was something I thought about a lot during that walk.

I didn't take the money though. Instead, I merely took a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a donut from the plastic case where you could buy them individually, and strolled out.

As the door opened for me, time began to resume, and everything went down the shitter in one instant.

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Ooh, a cliffie on the first chapter; boy am I daring!

If you wanna see more, review :D

-Extra Lives