Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

006

Bree Tyler

Dear Journal,

July 6, 2010

It's currently past midnight, I can tell from what the sky looks like behind the drapes, the pale moonlight shining in. It's my second day writing in this leather journal, it feels comforting. Well, so far, Harry has called me up for breakfast yesterday morning and I now have a new nick name, cigarette slut. It's comical. I don't know why he gave me that nick name, it sounds like a stripper name I told him this during breakfast. Harry said he's still going to call me it. I don't mind. God, I really need to shower. I will ask Harry when he wakes up; if he will let me. I mean, he's given me privileges one time but I didn't even fully complete my shower because I got shampoo in my eyes. I like writing in here, you know? It's like my own personal therapist, except no one will make snide remarks about your shitty life, how horrible it is. I never excepted to be here, in a dark basement; being held for ransom. But the world is full of surprises, right? Some can be good, some can be bad, and some can be mediocre. To be honest, I've thought about jumping out the window, but I realized that I'm in a basement, and there would only be dirt, so I couldn't jump out. The only way I can see the moonlight is if I tilt my head up because a little bit of the dirt is not covering the window. I just want to leave this place; I want to see my mom again. I want to go to college. I want to pursue my dream job. I want to see my best friend Charlie again. There's still so much I need to do, but I cant, and I don't know if I ever will. I'll never be able to drink rum alcohol again without getting flashbacks of the terrible night. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to go to a club again, afraid this whole situation will happen to me; again. I've always played it safe, I've always been safe and felt protected, I don't feel safe anymore. I wish I could've went back in time and told myself to not go to the club, I never would be here, I also wouldn't be seeing hallucinations and writing in this journal, but I do like this journal quite a bit, especially the deep red ink pen.

-Bree Tyler xx

"What are you doing awake, cigarette slut?" I heard the thick accent, he smirked as I closed the leather journal rapidly.

"Sorry, I was just- writing and I couldn't sleep." I sighed, rubbing my arm, it was the perfect time to ask "can I please take a shower?"

"I let you take a shower two days ago." He stated firmly.

"I got shampoo in my eyes and I couldn't even finish showering because it stung so bad, I also didn't have a fresh pair of clothes so I had to reuse these ones." I shrugged, referring to the clothes that hung on my body.

"Fine, but make it quick." Harry said, running his fingers through his hair, tangling it.

"What about clothes?" I asked.

"Just throw the ones you're wearing right now in the washer, they'll be brand new!" He stated with sarcastic enthusiasm, walking up the basement stairs leaving the door open for me.

I sighed in relief, I walked up to the bathroom and saw a black towel hung up, there was a blue teardrop embroidered perfectly in the middle like a bullseye. I undressed myself and wrapped the towel around my body closely as I walked around to try and find the washing machine.

I soon realized that the machine I needed was in the kitchen after walking around for a bit, I didn't even notice that there was washing and drying machines in there earlier while we are breakfast.

Harry was in the kitchen making a drink.

I hugged the towel tightly, opening the washer as I bent down, I could feel his wandering eyes on me, he smirked deviously when I turned my head back to look at him in the eyes.