UNCONDITIONALLY YOURS

One day, or day one // 1

Years ago, the Atkinson family owned all the power in the city. People looked up to them and they had no one to compete with. In this day and age money, power and respect seem to be all that matters to many. The Atkinson family had a nanny, Mary, for their young child. Mary had a son who she cherished and loved so preciously. But the Atkinson family were cold, and it was not long before Mary's final hopes for both her and her son were crushed. After tragedy struck, no one knew what became of Mary's only child.

"This is not the last you will hear from me. I am coming, and I thrive for revenge. Let justice be served."

-Chapter one-

Riley

I woke up to the ear-piercing screeching of my alarm clock. As much as I wanted to roll over and close my eyes for a short minute longer, I was aware of the fact I did not have much time to get ready.

I had my alarm perfectly timed every morning that I was working, it needed to be late enough to ensure time for my father to have left the house yet still early enough for me to have to get ready.

Unwillingly, I dragged my body away from the warmth and comfort of my bed. I looked around the large room that had always felt so empty regardless of how many excessively overpriced ornaments and accessories my father had attempted to decorate my room with. I did not care for spending money on such things, yet my father had insisted that a 'lady' like myself should worry about spending money on expensive decorations.

I made my way to the en suite. After tying my long, brunette locks loosely into a low, messy bun and changing into ripped skinny black jeans and a plain white t-shirt, I set off out of my room.

I was sure that my step mum was not around, because she was usually off at god-knows-what kind of meet up with her friends, but I was still cautious not to run into her. I placed each step carefully down the staircase, cautious to keep my silence.

What I hated most about my house, was how everything had to be so 'grand'. Even the staircase, or should I say staircases, looked expensive and extravagant. They both curved down in an almost semi-circle either side of the landing, and they were blanketed in a rich green carpet with a line of golden stitching down each side. A gold chandelier full of intricate designs was centred between the  two large staircases, a grand piano directly below it, which by the way no one played, but my father would often hire a pianist for special occasions. This, of course, was strange for the reason that my father always complained about music calling it unnecessary, but anything to impress guests right?

As a house, I thought it was very beautiful and designed to the point of perfection. As a home? Well, it did not feel like a home at all in fact.

I was relieved to find myself at the front door, after being swallowed amongst my own daydreams and thoughts. When I saw my stepmother's car was missing, this confirmed my previous suspicions of her being out of the house anyway. It would have been far less time consuming to have looked out of my bedroom window to observe the vacant space in our driveway.

I inhaled the fresh winter air, so intensely cool it stung a little as the air travelled down my throat. Small droplets of dew had formed on the grass surrounding me and frozen into ice throughout the harshly bleak night. The sky showed not a sign of sun beneath the clusters of dull grey clouds. Although disliked by many, I thought that this weather was truly beautiful, despite the low temperature sometimes being unpleasant. I loved to cocoon myself amongst my thick, winter coat and my soft, black scarf.

But I had a lurking suspicion this weather appealed to me for other reasons, those involving my mother. Yet that was a suspicion I was reluctant to think too deeply about, as memories of myself snuggling up to my mother skimmed the tip of my thoughts. I would not allow those memories to travel even a tiny amount closer to overpowering every last one of my other thoughts that told me it was better not to think about something you can no longer have. And so that was how it had to be. As appose of reminding myself of her, I shut down the memories I believed to be better not remembered.