Chapter 1: Taxi Driver

"She's watching the taxi driver he pulls away."

Andy's P.O.V.

I wave Beau out the door, only half-faking my smile. I love having the house to myself, even though I have to clean. Beau couldn't hurt me when he wasn't here.

I gather my cleaning supplies and head to the bathroom. I have to clean it daily because Beau is a huge slob.

I hum quietly to myself as I take the stuff off the counter, getting ready to clean it. Then, I quickly look over my shoulder, then turn to face the mirror again.

I see an average girl staring back at me. She has stringy brown hair and dull green eyes. I used to be proud of my eyes, but then I realized they were the color of vomit, grass and boring green marker. They weren't emeralds sparkling in the sun. They are vomit-filled pools, nothing more, nothing less.

I turn my attention to my other features. My nose is too small, my ears to big. I know my complexion isn't perfect, but I still cringe when I see the few zits still dotting my skin. I don't have an outstanding body, or anything special. I don't understand why Beau chose me.

Its because you can't fight back, a voice in the back of my head says.

Oh yeah? I think. Watch me.

I glance over my shoulder, which is pointless, as I am facing a mirror. I turn and look at my reflection.

"Hello," I whisper, and quickly flinch, expecting the hit to come.

When it doesn't, I relax and look at the mirror again.

"I am Andy," I try out. When nothing happens, I smile.

It's startling to see a smile on my face when I haven't smiled in forever. It changes my face from a dull expression to one where my eyes glimmer and I actually look happy. Then, my face falls back into lines of misery.

"I am twenty-one years old. I come from Germany. I speak German and English," I say, and my face lights up when I realize I can still speak. Hesitantly, I try German. "Hallo, ich bin Andy. Ich bin einundzwanzig Jahre alt. Ich komme aus Deutschland. Ich spreche Deutsch und Englisch."

I smile when I realize that I can still speak German. I come from Germamy, and I grew up there. I learned English and that's when Beau met me. He hates it when I speak German because he can't understand me. I don't speak German anymore.

I walk around the apartment for the rest of the day, talking to myself. I switch effortlessly from English to German, fitting in small German words in my phrases.

"Ich putze today," I say to the window, smiling broadly as I do so.

It has been a while since I have rebelled against Beau. Even though he is not here, I am driving a small crack in his walls around me. He can't stop me from speaking. There was a time when I was too afraid to do anything because I was scared Beau would hurt me. But here I am, talking to myself, even singing a little as I clean.

"Ich bin happy," I say aloud, looking out the window. "Nein, ich bin not happy. Ich cannot be happy while Beau ist hier."

And that is true. I will never be happy while Beau is in my life. He scares me and hurts me. I live in fear of him, that when he comes home I will get beaten for doing something wrong. For example, yesterday I got slapped for apologizing. I don't want that to happen again. Although, I did get to meet that blue-eyed boy. He was sweet and must have apologized at least eight times. Beau had never done that for me. I find myself daydreaming about the boy instead of working. I wonder what his name is and where he is from. All I remember is that he has the most captivating eyes I have ever seen. They danced with mischief, yet they were still serious, like he always had a joke ready but could be serious when he needed to.

I snap out of my daze and started cooking. If I didn't have food ready for Beau when he got home, he would get angry.

All of a sudden, I hear a car pull up to the door. I glance out the window and see Beau paying a taxi driver. I wash my hands and walk to the door, Beau opening it. He glances up at me as he takes off his shoes.

"Hello Beau," I say neutrally.

Beau's head snaps up and he gapes at me. "What did you just say?"

"I said hello," I repeated.

Beau straightened up slowly, then smacked me across the face. I fell to the floor and tried not stare too pathetically at the taxi driver as he pulled away, silently willing him to help me.

______________________________________________________________________________

Sigh. Beau is just such a jerk. So yeah, if you guys didn't notice, this story is going by the song lyrics. The first line goes "she's watching the taxi driver he pulls away" so I used that. Ummmmmmmm hope you enjoy it, get ready for an update soon, I don't know. I may or may not update this one regularly, just because I'm finding it difficult to write. I don't know, just whatever. So comment, vote, do whatcha do, just read and enjoy!

Love ya!

-11tay99

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