Simon Says (A Internet-y Gamer Love Story) (On Hold, Kinda)

Prologue

"NINA, if I have to call you one more time!" I sprung up at the sound of my dad's voice, "I'm going to come in there and beat your ass!" I really didn't care that my dad preferred to Teach Lessons by beating me and my little sister but I groaned and got up anyway. I locked my room door and was about to get ready for school; but I always get distracted by the mirror behind my door.

I stare at my reflection, scars are everywhere; most of them from my dad's lessons. There's one above my left breast, a long one going from my neck down my ribs, one across my stomach, and hundreds of them going down each of my wrists.

"Damn, you are probably the ugliest thing in existence" I whispered to the mirror in front of me. Anyone would agree; my skin had no color; it was completely white, my chest was practically flat and you could see my ribs through my skin, my eyes were an odd shape and the palest green you'd ever see, my nose was huge, and I was basically a skeleton. At least that's how they'd describe me. Even my dad tells me I look like shit; which is understandable, I really do; but you'd expect my father to at least be a little nicer considering I am his blood, but he hasn't really been the same since mom died.

Mom was beautiful, she looked like an angel. She had deep blue eyes, they were the perfect size, she long black hair that reached her hips and was typically kept in a ponytail by a white ribbon, she had a cute button nose, and she had the prettiest smile anyone would ever see. I wish I looked more like her, but that's not necessarily how the world works.

I turn away from the mirror and walked over to my dresser. I put on a bra and panties and went over to my closet. I wasn't sure what to wear; I honestly didn't care what I was going to wear. I threw on a black T-shirt that was way too big and advertised a band that I really didn't care about and some jeans that had holes. I unlocked my door and opened it, I was greeted by a large hand coming across my face.

Slap "What's your fucking problem you little piece of shit!?" My dad screamed. I just waited before speaking, until he pushed me to the ground. Even then I didn't say anything. It doesn't really matter what you do; you shut your mouth, you get your ass kicked, you open your mouth, you get your ass kicked, you look at dad, you get your ass kicked, you smile, you get your ass kicked, you laugh, you get your ass kicked, you cry, you get your ass kicked. You get the point, right?

"I called you a hundred fucking times, you bastard." My father said to me through clenched teeth, I sat up off the ground, I said quietly "Sorry Dad, I had to clean my room" Which only caused him to punch my chest, it knocked the air out of me but it didn't hurt.

"When I call you, you better fucking come to me. Got it?" he said. I nodded, my chest was beginning to hurt but what could you do? He walked away and my sister came out of her room. She obviously had been crying, but why wouldn't you? A eight year old girl, who is extremely petite, living with an asshole like that. She looked a lot like mom, she had her blue eyes, her black hair, and her cute, little nose. She wore a pink sweater and blue jeans. We lived in California, so it was hot outside, but we tried to cover out scars, cuts, and bruises so no one would ask. She walked to me and whispered, "Are you okay, Helena?"

"He's done worse, don't worry about me, Anna." I smiled and got up. It was really hard, my legs hurt really bad but it was a normal thing for me. My dad thought Anna was mute, she never talked in front of dad. Dad thought she never talked because her mom was dead, but the only reason that Anna was quiet was because she was scared. Anna continued to look at me with concern, I looked back at her and smiled again. "I said, 'I'm alright, kid.' Don't look so glum, okay?" She nodded and smiled a little bit. I went to the bathroom and did all the hygiene stuff; brushing teeth, brushing hair, deodorant. You should know this stuff, if you don't... I'm a bit worried about you. I picked up my sister and grabbed my backpack, and walked out the door; living in household like this, I think you'd be quick to get out too.