Turned (under heavy editing)

Chapter One

I was woken up to my mom yelling at me.

"Isabella, get up and look presentable!"

I groaned, why did she feel the need to have guest over so early in the morning?

I got up quickly, afraid of what would happen if she didn't hear movement from me soon.

I hopped in the shower, letting the water pour over my tense muscles. Everyday is just another day of me getting bitched at by this women who was only called my mother because her name was on my birth certificate.

I heard another scream, and got of the shower. I didn't wear makeup, I couldn't afford it. So I just combed through my damp hair, and walked back into my room.

It was too early to dress too nice. I was not my mother, I will not be uncomfortable at seven fourty-eight in the morning.

I decided on jean shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. The shorts showed off my legs perfectly, and the sweatshirt looked good over my thin body. I looked at myself in the mirror, combed my long, black hair one more time, and walked downstairs.

As soon as I entered the living room, my mother was quick to speak.

"It took you long enough!" She huffed, and she smiled at her guests while apologizing for impoliteness.

I rolled my eyes.

Then, I actually took notice to who was in my house. There were a total of three men. Two where wearing simple black suits, and had ear pieces in their ears. They were standing behind the coach, behind the other man. This man looked different. A little younger. He had a blue flannel on, jeans, and boots. And to top it all off, he had a cowboy styled hat on.

My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. These aren't the typical people my mother let in our home.

"Someone want to tell me whats going on?" I asked, exasperated.

The man in the hat smiled slightly, but stayed silent.

"Okay, madre? Que pasà?" I was fed up, completely angry at my ignorance.

"No spanish." One of the men in the black suits says.

I raised my eyebrows at his audacity. Who comes into my home and tells me I can't speak my ethnic language?

"Um.. and you are? Last I checked, you didn't live in my home, so you can't tell me what to speak." I snap.

"Isabella!" My mom finally spoke.

"What? They can't tell me what I can and can't speak."

My mother sighed, and the men in the room were all smirking. What was it that everyone here knew, but I didn't?

"Actually, hermana, they can." she said slowly, "they are your bosses now. They own you."

I immediately started laughing, what the fuck? This has to be some kind of joke.

"Anyway..." I said between laughs.

"She's kind of telling the truth. Want to see the contract she just signed, handing you over to us?" One of the men said.

I laughed harder.

"Sure, right."

The man with the hat patted the seat next to him, motioning to sit next to him. I decided to, and he pulled out a peice of paper. I looked over at my mother, who looked uncomfortable, and looked at the men, who were smiling in amusement. I picked up the document.

'Female Laborer Contract'

Any smile or hint of anything happy drained from my face as I read through the contact.

'for the next three months, {insert laborer's name here} will be under management of {insert boss's name here}. the laborer will be forced to follow any order the boss is given, and expected to oblige without any problems.'

Obviously, the laborer was me. My whole name was written in the line: Isabella Claire Rodriguez.

The other line, reserved for the "boss's" name, was filled with the name Jason Aldean.

I looked in awe, and shock at my mother. She couldn't meet my gaze.

Coward.

I looked at everyone around me, not knowing what to do. I didn't cry, I didn't speak. I just shook my head at my mom, I didn't know how to react to this. These wounds were too fresh.

Suddenly, a hand was on my shoulder, making me get up. I was still too stunned to do anything, so I just stood up.

"How could you?" Was all I whispered to the women who still couldn't meet my gaze as I was pushed past her.

"Let go of me!" I snapped at the man who held my shirt, "You're hurting me!" He just held me harder.

I heard a small whimper, at first I thought it came from my mouth. But then I realized my mouth wasn't the culprit, it was my mother's.

I whipped my head around to look at her with peircing eyes, "Don't you dare cry! You fucking did this! You did!"

She whimpered harder.

If anything, I should be crying. Not her.

"Your money is on the table, Ms. Rodriguez." I heard the man in the hat say.

"What!" I screamed.

Money? Thats what this was about? All I did was work for her, I gave up everything to pay these bills. I let my education go to help us survive, and this is how she repays me? I have never been so disgusted in my life. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I think about how much they offered to give her only child over.

"I said, fucking let go of me, you gringo puenta!" I screamed. But he refused to let me go.

With my free hand, I swung and felt my fist connect with the man's face.

"Ow, fuck! You stupid bitch, you are going to regret that!" The man's raspy voice flooded my ears as I took off toward the door.

I heard foot steps running after me, but I didn't turn around. I kept running as fast as I could. I ran out the door, unsure of where to go.

Suddenly, I felt a pinch in the back of my neck.

"What the fuck!" I screamed, and I felt hands on my back.

"No..." I started saying, suddenly woosy, "Stop..."

And I fell back into the person's arms, and everything went black.