The Bad Boy's Princess

Past & Present

Dedicated to my hoecake bith❤

WARNING: TRIGGER ⚠️ CONTENT MAY BE TOO GRUESOME/MAY UPSET YOU
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THE BOOK YOURE ABOUT TO START READING IS EXTREMELY CLICHE AND CRINGE. I began writing it when I was 14:)
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Keep in mind Sasha is 11 for most of this chapter so she doesn't know what to refer to the people as except for "scary guy" and such.

*6 1/2 years ago*

I wish I could live here forever. The vibrant digital signs in Times Square and amazing shops lining each street. I'm definitely moving here after I graduate. Maybe I'll even have my own apa-

"Sasha! Come on! We have to walk 3 blocks to the hotel," my dad says, snapping me out of my day dream.

I get up from the bench outside of the diner we just ate at. This vacation is what I've been dreaming of since before I can remember. Coming to New York is a birthday present from my parents. Even though my 12th birthday is in a week.

I look up only to see my parents aren't in front of me. Frantically I look up and around. Looking past a group of people, I see my dad's head from above the crowd. He's a tall guy. I start running towards them, but then I feel a tug on my sleeve. Panic rises in me when I realize it can't be anyone I know. My brother, mom, and dad are all ahead of me walking. Who ever it is is now trying to pull me back into the alley beside me.

"DAD!" I yell as loud as I can. The last thing I see is his head whip around, before I'm pulled into the alley.

Everything around me goes black.

****

When I wake up, I'm hit with a musty odor. I hear people, girls talking nervously around me. I open my eyes and look around confused.

Then it hits me.

The memories flood in. My parents walking. Me running towards them but being pulled back. Screaming 'Dad'. Everything going black.

I shouldn't be here. The girls around me look my age and older, but none over 18. I turn to a blonde girl in ratty clothes who seems to be staring off into her own world.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around nervously and tugging her torn red shirt to get her attention.

She turns and stares at me. The look on her face creeps me out little. She looks to be my age, maybe a year older.

Once she snaps out of her trance, she replies.

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it isn't good. I was taken here after wandering too far from the park,"

I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, a buff, scary looking guy orders us to line up.

"Get up and head to the 'brand room'," he barks.

He has an accent, but I can't tell where its from.

More scary looking men come and split us up. Before I know it, I'm in a room watching other girls get burned with some metal pole.

I walk up to the burning guy as he holds a scarlet rod in his hand with the number "5" on it.

"Lean over, sweetie" he says, creepily.