Introduction

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Hi guys it's Em here! Thanks for checking out this story.

Brailence's parents are in the picture.

Don't forget to vote. And comment...

Brailence POV:

Get home. Get ready.

Those are the only thoughts going through my head as I run down a heavily flooded Pinevally Avenue.

It is the middle of spring and I am stuck in a monsoon storm.

Get home. Get ready.

Today Mr. And Mrs. King are getting back from a business trip, and I need to look perfect before they get home.

I get to the front door and placed my hands on my shakes knees. My breathing was labored as I wiped the rain out of my eyes.

My house isn't actually a house at all. It's a mansion. You see, my Mr. and Mrs. King are extremely wealthy.

Most kids would be happy about that. Being rich automatically means that you're popular! Yeah? No. At least not for me.

I don't want people to know how wealthy my family is. They would see me differently. That's why I keep it a secret. I don't like attention, or people constantly asking for money. But people knowing that I live in a place that is similar to Beverly Hills 90210 would definitely catch attention.

I don't wanna be popular.

I step inside the house and walk upstairs toward my room. The walls are a nasty pick color, and the carpet is an off whitish-yellowish color. Along with all of my other bedroom necessities. The grossness of the colors match perfectly. As you can see I hate the color pick. Always have, always will.

The reason it's like this is because Mr. and Mrs. King want the perfect daughter, but they got me. My room has to be perfectly daughterish I guess. There are constantly people coming in and out of the house. They go through every room, including mine. I think that's the only reason I have things.

My parents want the perfect family, but I'm not perfect and they hate that I'm not. I have to wear the revealing, ugly, freaking hot pink cloths to their business stuff. That's probably one of the reasons why I don't like attention at school. I get to much attention outside of it. I'm always in magazines with Mr. and Mrs. King. I dress differently to school than to meetings.

I set down my book bag and walk to my dresser. Sifting through my drawer I pull out the smallest crop top I can find, and my shortest shorts. I pull my hair out of it's low, unflattering ponytail, and shake my damp hair.

I take off my sopping wet cloths, and slide on my dry ones.

I run to my bathroom, and dry my hair, then curl it to perfection. Then I cake my makeup on my face. Perfect.

This is how my parents want me dress all of the time. Even to school. Since i won't wear this to school they always make me to wear it at home. Disgusting.

I hear a car pull up the driveway, and I hide my bag, then run downstairs.

Making sure my hair is ok as I stand a few feet from the door, and wait for it to open.

I hear the lock click, and I suck in a breath. The door opens and Mrs. King walks in first. She studies the clean room as Mr. King walks in behind her.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. King." I say bowing my head to them. "I hope your trip went well." They both look at me with blank stares. "I see you listened. You look... Presentable." Mrs. King said staring at my outfit and all of my exposed skin.

"You are getting fat though." Mr. King pipes in.

My heart drops but I keep a straight face. "I apologize Mr. King." Mrs. King gives a small smile. "Other than your weight problem everything is perfect." I smile back at her words.

But hers turns evil. "That doesn't mean it's going to be any better though." My smile drops. "We haven't gotten to see you for so long!"

"Yes ma'am."I say as she pulls her hand back and slaps me. My head swings to the side as I fall to the floor. My cheek stings as I lay here.

"Good girl. Now just let it be. Maybe it will make you a better person, maybe even a thinner person. And remember. Your going on a diet after this." Ms. King tells me as Mr. King kicks me.

I can feel a few of my ribs pop out of place and new bruises forming. The pain is unbearable, but to a person that it has happened to many times to, I can handle it. She walks to kitchen and comes back with two large knives.

I just lie still as they kiss their knives and say a prayer. I've never understood why they prayed. Maybe they're praying to god that they don't go to hell. Ha good luck with that one. You two are definitely going to hell.

I hold back a laugh firstly because I would get an even worse punishment than this. Secondly because it would hurt like hell.

After their prayer they take their knives and trace up and down my body. But before they can pierce my flesh the front door slams and then I realize.

The drapes are pulled back.

This is the epilogue! I hope you like.

The reason I didn't give you a picture of Brailence is because I want you to image her in your own preference. Love you all!

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