•Innocence•

•00•Birthday Girl•

"Arabella! Get down here this instant." My mother screamed from down the stairs.

No happy birthday to me? Just yelling, I guess I should know the routine by now.

I open my door quickly closing it behind me and adjusting my dress before entering the hall way.

"I'm coming." I respond rather loudly, making my way down the stairs, my mother soon comes into vision.

Her hair pulled up into a bun tightly, a apron wrapped tightly around her small figure as her hands rest on her hips, angrily? Who am I kidding, she's always angry.

She stands there as she normally does when I've forgotten to do something, the tiniest of things too, such as wiping down a bench or forgetting my Fathers evening coffee.

"Hurry up, we don't have all day, Arabella." She grunts walking off not even waiting for me, I fasten my paste and follow behind her.

She leads me into the lounge room where my Father is already sitting on one of the leather arm chairs, his glasses perched on his nose as his eyes skimmed over the magazine in front of him.

Out of everyone in this house my Father was always my favourite Solely because he never bothered me, my Mother always did that, my Father on the other hand would always mind his own business. I guess that's why He was my favourite.

He rarely ever yelled at me, but he also never spent time with me or even glance at me.

I've always wondered why.

"Okay so we have some news that we need to tell you about Arabella." My mother breaks the silence and pushes herself back into the other arm chair.

I just stand there awkwardly awaiting the stupid information that is to come out of her mouth next.

Honestly I'm not expecting anything big, just one of her monthly lectures about how I need to be doing more around the house and less reading.

And I barely ever read with the work load she puts on me.

I'm lucky if I get 20 minutes of reading a day.

But she always tends to find something to complain about.

"So since you are finally 18, we have decided on something that you are bound to disagree upon." She starts and my Father puts his magazine and glasses on the coffee table as clears his throat and sits up straight.

When he does that, that's when you know it's getting serious. I cross my arms across the chest, I can feel my face turning a light share of pink.

"So we have gotten this really good offer, and we have decided to get rid of you by selling you."

I held in my gasp, What!

No, no, no, this can't be happening!

"W-what." I stutter out in disbelief shooting her a glare.

"Don't you dare look at me like that again you ungrateful child." She snaps, pointing her slender finger at me.

That's when the tears start gushing out, I can't help it, I have a reason to be crying.

"Your selling me, and you expect me to be happy? You expect me to be grateful!" I weep, fiddling with the ends of my dress, my hands clammy and sweaty, sweaty cold though, making me shiver.

Mother puts Both of her hands on either side of the arm chair, pushing herself up and out of it, her face getting more red by the second in anger as she approaches me.

I'm too scared to even move I stay frozen in my spot waiting for it, waiting for her to hit me.

It comes sooner than I thought, my face flies to the side a burning sensation coming along with it as my mothers hand collided with the side of my face, I press my cold hand onto the area hoping to cool the burning area.

My eyes widen in shock as I process what just happened.

She actually slapped me.

The tears flowing down my cheeks make it hurt more as the cold sensation from the tear drop makes contact with the area she just hit, it stings every time a new drop touches it but I can't help myself I can't stop crying!

Come on Arabella, stop crying!

I wipe my tears with my fore arm before glancing over at my dad who is still sitting there emotionless, as if nothing happened, his brown eyes looking off towards the wall as if it's interesting.

The only thing different is that he now holds a bottle of beer in his hand.

I don't understand why he won't protect me? he never does.

He brings the bottle to his lips when he notices I'm looking at him, he skulls the whole bottle down before slamming it on the coffee table.

"Now, when these men get here you are to be on your best behaviour." Mother adds, stumbling off and falling back down in her chair again crossing one leg over the other.

I just nod, I'm not in a mood to talk, if I talk I'll probably just cry even more.

How can one even do something like this to their child?

My parents are nothing but sick alcoholics and gamblers, always gambling all their money away, and when ever they have a big loss they come home and let their anger out on me, as if I'm a punching bag.

So if anything I should be happy to be getting out of this hell hole.

A knock on the door sounds through the room, my mothers head snaps to me signalling for me to open it, I obey making my way to the door.

My hand shakes as I slowly open the door twisting the door knob, what ever happens next and who comes through this door now is my future.

I open the door not making eye contact with any of the six men who enter, the rich smell of their Cologne envelopes me, I shut the door behind them watching them enter our living room.

They all scream wealthy, dressed in expensive suits, none of them look scruffy, hair all neat and freshly cut on all of them.

None of them take a seat they all stand back in front of our back wall that has a series of Mother and Fathers wedding pictures.

Mother sends me a stern look, maybe she's signalling for me to come to her?

I shut the door and quickly but quietly rush over to her chair standing beside it.

I probably look like a mess right now, my long brunette hair is probably all damp from the sweating I have been doing.

My face all teary from the crying and there would also be a big red mark on my cheek from the slap.

"al capo piacerà questo, timido e obbediente" one man says to the other men. (Boss will like this one, timid and obedient.)

The men agree before Father cuts into their conversation. "This is my daughter, Arabella." He signals towards me, the attention now onto me as all the men give me a once over.

"it was great doing business with you guys, you can take her now." He says pointing at me, but his attention soon darts to the man holding a big duffel bag.

I shiver, backing up onto the wall.

Another man goes up to Father handing him a duffel bag which I presume has money and drugs inside of it, "it's all in there, 308,511.35 Euro in cash and the 10 kilos of cocaine you asked for."

I'm honestly surprised someone would pay that much for me.

The men start to approach me, with no where to go I slide down the wall, soon getting yanked up. The man who pulled me up, forces my back into the wall and I become cornered by the other five men.

Shit.

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