my bed, restless. Tears dropped from my cheeks and I could

d it in a good investment company, it would have been better. He hasn't cared about my w

younger, I feel so bad that I am moving out of it unplanned. It was heartbreaking and

h its stained but freshly washed sheets; the beat-up wooden desk and matching chair that got me th

ast not any recent ones-but it's still home, and it

ts at his use of the name Mom gave me, and I struggled against the ur

took me a couple of minutes to pack, but I've still managed to piss him off

money. I needed to be fast in order for him not to scr

ft to the empty spot above my bed. Mom's painting

eel sad or afraid. I know it's silly, but it makes me feel like Mom's with me. I'm glad it's

DMC is already at the entrance door and glaring

be the submissive, obedient Wolf Dad made me out to be. I'm so fr

I mumble, taking a step toward the bathroom. DMC emits a f

e one too scared to ever run away, would never do this. She'd have been too o

with me? Good dental hygiene is so not worth dying for. My toothbrush is unique to me. You do not

nd the bathroom as he comes c

C is probably going to put guards on

never go to school or go to college... never fall in love... never get married... never hav

just let DMC kill me n

that sounds deceptively ge

I thought he knew how to communicate, an

th authority, and my feet take me inside the bat

saw him as a man, who is not diplomatic, doesn't shift grounds, pity is not in his dictionary, lo

m, and shove everything into my bag. Given Dad's rotting teeth, genetics are stacked against m

on autopilot, wondering how I can even thi

eek around him and gape. I decided to act responsibly so that I do not have a clash with him. My life is almost i

ch, a beer in one hand an

channels until he finally settles on the game. He looks up from t

ebt could be scary and uncomfortable. His worries hav

n't a shred of guilt on his face. I may be his

. Suddenly, his right arm shoots out, and he wraps his ha

om the TV, mocking him. He pulls at DMC's arm with both hands, feet kicking out as

oney, I will kill you. Are we clear?" DMC demands, holding dad up at eye level. I guess that explains ho

a strangled "yes." He looks so small and helpless, feet dangling h

and when his eyes start to close, I let out an involuntary gasp. My dad is about to die righ

own leather. There are bruises around his neck, but he's still br

le I'll still be DMC's slave. It is not an easy task to be a slave, especiall

ahead for me. She said I should not panic, but I should always remain resolute. I

ing him to change his mind to save me but he's too busy rubbing his neck to pay

the passenger-side door, lifts me, and tosses me onto the seat as i

im with my eyes as he rounds the truck and climbs in. Surprisin

ey are his boys. He asked me never to be afraid, that no one would ever hurt me. Ac

DMC growls a

ngine. Then he hits the gas, and the truck t

my bag with the other. As the truck speeds up, I tu

I shouted like something hit me in the middle of the road and

who came out of the bush, shot at the air, ov