A/N: This is my first story. I apologize if the spelling and punctuation aren't perfect, but please know that I tried. My name is Edith. If you read my bio, you'll probably get to know me better. I'm still young and going to school. I'll try to make my update regular, but I'm sorry if I get caught up. I will have assignments and homework to do and I'm in most extension classes this semester, so therefore I'll have a lot of homework. I write these in my notes on my phone before I upload and I'm currently up to Chapter Three :) .xx
"Get out of my house! Get out now Eden! You don't deserve to have somewhere to stay!" That was my father. He hated me. He was currently cursing at me to leave after finding out that I had an addiction.
"Why aren't your bags already packed, you puss-filled maggot?" My mother spat from behind him. I could see the regret in her eyes. But I knew she only wanted me to think that she was regretting this very moment. Nathan, my ungrateful older brother threw a dufflebag, with possibly two shirts and maybe a towel in it, to my feet. This is what I'd be wearing and living in for the next couple weeks. I stared at my parents with desperation. I didn't want to leave. They just glared back at me and slammed the door so the whole of the neighborhood could possibly hear. I stood there blankly. Memorizing the good memories I had there. I didn't come across any whatsoever.
I looked over to the display window and saw the plum coloured curtain swish. It was probably Alex, my other older brother. I saw a quick glimpse of his sympathetic expression before he was spat at for even looking at me. I was a disgrace to my parents, but as far as I was concerned, they were a disgrace to me. I hesitantly turned my back on the hell I was forced to live in. I was free to escape, leaving Alex behind. I didn't want him to suffer the pain they caused me. And now that I was gone, they would turn on him. The next youngest. Alex seemed to be the only one who could feel what I was feeling. He was a true brother. He helped me when I was sick and getting beaten. He helped me when someone needed to help him. There was no way I would ever repay him.
Without him I would have already lived my dreams and flown to a place where I was loved. Heaven.
Nathan was a minion. He did anything and everything he could for my parents, just so he would be pushed onto my position one day. Or Alex's. Nathan was the worst. He was an Aries; and so was I. Two Aries would never get along. The symbol for Aries is a ram. I dare you to put two rams in a roon together and see what happens. They attack. He would kick me until my ribs caved in for months on end. I would go to school in the same crappy, tattered lace dress daily and I got teased for it.
Nowhere was ever safe for me. I never had and friends and Alex was the closest of all of them.
I walked down the street until it got dark. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't want to know. If I I knew, I would find myself faster than I wanted to. My legs were getting sore, like always. They usually wouldn't get sore from walking, but I'd rather them be sore from walking than getting beaten. I found a place where I could rest peacefully. A park bench. It doesn't sound very appealing, but I'm too much emotional and physical pain to care. I sat down, my legs instantly feeling the relief. Luckily I had my phone with me, or I don't know how I'd survive.
No, I'm not an addict to my apps or texting, but I was addicted to answering daily blocked calls. Calls that I would receive from the same men daily. My bosses, if you will. The people that pay me.
That's right; I'm a prostitute. But I somehow needed to work for money for my pain relief, my drugs. Getting a job was too difficult.
The sleep was the best I'd had in a while. No worrying about my parents intruding and destroying my dreams. The dreams that I hoped one day would come true. I recieved my first call of the day, less than ten minutes after waking up. I wasn't even properly awake. A sleep that good was worth holding on to. I acieved thirty dollars for my first man, fifty from my second, twenty from my third and so on. It went like that for nineteen days and now here I am, sitting at the same park bench that I would return to every night.
