Shye

Chapter 1:My name's Shye

*Monday 5th September*
*5:00AM*
(Shye's POV)
I woke up to the sound of my alarm ringing on my beside table. Groggily, I turned over, turned it off and rose out of my bed to get started on with my chores before I had to get ready for school. I gave a loud yawn and headed out of my room, carefully closing my door so that I didn't wake my father. I tiptoed across the old, creaky, wooden floorboards towards the kitchen. I got the cleaning supplies out of the bottom cupboard and begun cleaning. My name's Shye. Shye with an e and the name fits. I'm 17 and I live in a dingy, one story, New York apartment with my alcoholic, abusive father. My mother died in a car accident when I was only 7. She was my favourite person in the world and I was devestated when she died. My father however changed for the worst and made me his personal slave. From the age of 8, I was able to cook, clean, iron and wash clothes. I had specific chores that I had to complete or I would get punished. Usually by beatings, but if my dad was in a particulary bad mood he'd make me sleep outside in my underwear, in the cold and rain or he'd ban me from eating and going out for weeks on end which is incredibly dangerous for me because I have anemia. Anemia to put it simply my body doesn't make enough red blood cells meaning that I don't have enough blood in my body, which is why I'm so pale. Every two weeks I have to go for blood transfusions, unfortunately my blood type is O positive, so it is quite hard for me to get transfusions because I can donate my blood to anyone, but I can't recieve blood from anyone. People with type O positive blood are quite rare, but I get by. I have two jobs, I have to keep the house clean and I have to cook all the meals as well as do the grocery shopping with what little money I have from my wages because my dad takes most of my money to spend on more drugs or beer and I've put aside some money so I'll be able to get my transfusions and when I graduate I'll be able to go to college and medical school. I want to be a doctor so that I can help people. Before my mother died she said that if I remember one thing she ever says is that being kind and helping others is what makes life truly worth living. I live by those words. I may hate how my father treats me, but I love him because he's my dad at the end of the day. I work at a local coffee shop after school and at night I work in a strip club owned by the biggest mafia in New York city. The Ferrari mafia. The only reason I work at the strip club is because I get good money for it and the manager there is kinda a sleezeball and didn't care how old I was. All he cared about was that I was attractive. I guess I have a good figure because I workout a lot and many of the neighbors, especially the old women in the building tell me that I have a beautiful face. I don't have much free time and the free time I do have is spent studying, working or doing chores. I don't have any friends. I got a scholarship to one of the best schools in the city because of my exceptional grades and behaviour, so all the rich kids at my high school see me as the poor charity case kid and anyone from my old middle school thinks I'm stuck up, so I just can't seem to catch a break. I kinda just get on with life to be honest, what happens will happen. I finished cleaning up the kitchen and begun to prepare breakfast for dad. I made him some waffles and wrapped them up with cling film, on a plate for when he came down eventually. I looked at the time on my phone. ~5:45~. I had time to go for a quick run. I headed upstairs to change into my running clothes.