***Warning: This Chapter has some inappropriate including nudity and uncomfortable thoughts that may trigger some audience*** (Although it's nothing really)

Edited.

CHAPTER 1

I sighed in content as the water trailed down my naked body easing the tension in my ligaments.

My eyes closed in delight as my fingers caressed my shoulder. I tilted my neck to the side to give more access.

After a couple of tranquilizing minutes in the shower, I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my body securely.

I strutted in front of the steam coated mirror and leaned onto the cold ceramic sink on my palms that were wrinkled from being in the shower for too long. I wiped out the condensed vapor off the mirror and gazed back at the reflection of a girl, broken inside and out.

Blue-grey eyes stared back at me which I recalled, were once cheerful and bright, which highly contradicted the dullness and lifelessness they held now. My cheekbones protruded out of my face and my cheeks looked almost hollow, probably from the lack of my appetite. My full lips were dry and cracked, screaming for moisture even though I had just showered. My tanned skin was flawless but didn't illuminate the glow it used to.

My chiseled jaw clenched as it became more prominent, showing off its sharp edge that could probably chop off wood. I had a fit body and well-defined facial features which would have looked far beyond attractive if I had done something to flaunt it.

Too bad I didn't have the time or patience to do so.

I closed my eyes as the events from my past flashed across my mind for the millionth time. I filter them all out before it ended up getting too depressing.

I sighed and got out of the bathroom and stepped into my room that was attached to my bathroom.

I lived in a very sumptuous mansion that was owned by my Step-father, Adham- whose guts I had learned to absolutely loathe from the day he married my mom. It had just flew off the charts when he killed my mom.

Don't get me wrong, my mom wasn't the one to go for the rich old hag and being labeled as a gold digger.

No. In fact, the last thing she wanted from Adham was his money.

I still to this very day have no clue why she decided to marry a douche bag.

After my actual dad died, we had moved here with my mom and sister. I never really remembered much about my dad. But what I knew for sure was he wasn't a cretin I loathed.

I didn't witness my father's death, or so I have been told. I simply learned that my dad had died in a car crash when I was only two.

We had been living here since my mom decided to remarry Adham; ever since I could remember. And just when I thought things couldn't get any confusing and miserable, My mom ended up getting killed by Adham.

I still remember the day when I came back from school and found my mom drowned in her own blood beside her bed on the floor, limp and lifeless with her eyes open wide that held so much pain and stories to tell.

That was the same day Adham had come home with another woman,not giving two shits that his wife was lying dead on the floor as he fucked the other woman. He simply disposed off my mother's dead body the next morning.

Never had I felt so lost and confused when my family fell apart before my eyes. It was scary.

Then after a year or two, I discovered why my mother had really died; what made the last string inside her that kept her sane snap.

Adham, who was once a wise man -from what I had been told- had become a cruel merciless leader of a mafia gang that he had started. He gradually fell out of love with my mother and bought different women every night not caring how my mother felt.

What is really pathetic is that, even though he didn't like my mother later, he never let her go. He had forced her to give her body to satisfy other men's pleasure to get his dirty work done.

My mother had no choice but to obey the cruel man.

She had tried to resist his ugly new self, but it only got worse and eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and had just ended her life.

Adham was furious at what mom had done. But, that didn't stop him from doing his dirty work. Since I was just twelve at the time he spared me a little. He had just abused and beaten me up when I disrespected or disobeyed him.

He didn't do anything serious to me, but he ruined my sister's life instead.

She was eighteen when my mom died. So my father thought it was a great idea to replace my mom with my sister and proceeded to do so.

She was forced to be a slut just like my mother was, and trust me she didn't like it one bit.

And when she pulled herself to express her concern to him, but he had simply beaten her to pulp. And asserted to never tell him what to do.

She would sneak into my room every night and cry her eyes out.

Being a small girl, I didn't seem to have sufficient diligence to reckon the dilemma. So I settled with offering a shoulder to cry on and person to speak to instead.

Out little degree of hope seemed to be egregious when Adham caught us one unfortunate night and forbade us from seeing or speaking to each other ever since.

From then, I had sworn that I would run away from here as soon as I turn eighteen in a couple months and start a new life elsewhere, possibly with my sister, wherever she was now.

And to add a cherry on top of my dreary life, I once had a loving boyfriend who knew me like the back of his hand. He gave his word to take care of me and love me forever.

I couldn't help but let out a scoff thinking about that.

Blake was a sick bastard. A cruel sick bastard.

I was too naïve to know what his true intentions were. I loved him with all my heart.

Too bad he only wanted me for my body, to win a bet. I dated him for 2 years! 2 fucking years!

I shook my head and let out a humorless chuckle.

I should have known. I should have known when he sneaked out with Jessie. I should have known when I sensed a tint of rose scent that always lingered around him. I should have known when I didn't see the love in his eyes that mine always held.

I didn't see anything eccentric or dubious about him with the love that blinded my vision.

My life had seemed to completely annihilate when I saw him with another girl on his bed. Limbs tangled together as they made out avidly as she moaned when he cupped her intimate part.

I saw it, but I didn't want to believe it.

Pulling myself together, I confronted him.

He had simply laughed at my face before he enunciated that he had just dated me and pretended to love me to take away my virginity for a bet. He also admitted how he had been cheating on me all along to satisfy his needs.

My conviction for saving my innocence for the right time seemed ridiculous to him.

He had left the school after a couple of weeks before he moved states for some family emergency. Since then, I never saw him and I never wished to or ever will.

I sighed and pushed back the bittersweet memories.

I opened the door to my closet and entered. My eyes caught on a black hoodie and white shorts thrown down on the floor.

I crouched down to pick them up with one of my hands as the other held up my towel securely.

I stood up as my eyes fell on the mirror in front of me.

I shook my head at my reflection and drop the towel to the floor. I resist the harsh cold air that bit into my bare skin as my eyes roamed around my body.

I frowned when I caught an ugly bruise on the side of my stomach which looked quite painful as much as it felt.

I brought my attention back to my face only to have my frown deepen as the small cuts and bruises scattered across my face seemed to bring a light for themselves.

Well, it was good that the bruises were at a minimum today. I've had worse.

I quickly wore the clothes and dragged myself across the room to my bedside table before I opened the drawer. I picked up my anti-depressants along with some painkillers and pop them into my mouth as I poured myself a glass of water from the jug and brought it to my lips to swallow the drugs together.

I sighed and closed my eyes tight as I felt them going down my throat.

I didn't like the idea of having regular medication. I didn't like it one bit. But, that was the only thing that kept me from going crazy.

My ears perked up at the sound of the wind howling across the horizon as I turned my head towards my big window while my feet moved accordingly to the swaying curtains.

I pushed the dark heavy fabric out of my site which I believed gave me the illusion of my very own personal space.

I liked that very much. Too much for my own good.

I gazed at the night sky that had lightened up by the beams of moonlight.

I reached out my fingers to touch the glass. They both pressed against each other like a pair of distinct reunited couple.

It was scary that the only thing that seemed to be separating me and the outside world was a thin piece of glass.

I shook my head and dropped my gaze to the floor.

My toes curl involuntarily as they seemed to appreciate the feeling of the soft fluffy carpet. I lifted my gaze to be greeted by my rather austere room.

My queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room like the queen she was. It was tampered with large pillows and elite mattress. Beside it were my two bedside tables. Above my bed was a canvas painting that my friend Calvin had painted and gifted to me.

My room was painted a dark grey that made the room dull and dead scarily resembling my eyes.

My closet and bathroom were attached and fairly luxurious too.

Well, being a rich Persian-American had its perks. Our family is originally from Persia, now known as Iran, but we had moved to live here in America, for quite a long time which dated back to my distant ancestors. But I would hardly call ourselves a family.

We are far from it.

Many Iranian-Americans identify themselves as irreligious or Shi'ite Muslim, but a full one-fifth are Christians, Jews, Baha'is, or Zoroastrians. Additionally, there are also some Iranian Mandaeans, but they are very small in number.

But, we are Agnostic.

Agnosticism is the view, that human reason is incapable of providing sufficient rational grounds to justify either the belief that God exists or the belief that God does not exist.

In simple words, we believe that the existence of God is unknown.

Even if we chose to practice Islam, we would have been kicked out of from it considering Adham's ill practices.

I walked towards my bed before I settled on it. My palms came in contact with the soft blanket. I caressed it as if I were petting my dog as I smiled softly.

I had always never seemed to understand anything as a twelve year old with so much dark stuff that surrounded me. Nothing really had seemed to complement my tender years either.

Everything only made sense after my mom took her life. I understood what deep shit me and my sister were pulled into. Only that there was no way out.

I shook my head filtering out the disturbing truths and wiped away the tears that threatened to flow.

I needed to be strong. I spoke to myself as I forced some condor to cultivate within.

My head turned towards my bedside table where my clock sat.

11:07

Oh god. I really should get going.

I stood up and tied my hair in a ponytail before I reached my duffle bag and headed towards the door.

I quietly creaked open the door and sneaked out to the back of my house.

I jumped over one of the walls bought my hands up to reach over my hood and covered my head before I scurried towards the only place I seemed to be valued
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A/N: It might seem a bit boring for a few chapters. But I promise it gets much better.

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