Dear Tyler (Re written)

Prologue- Annabelle

December 2013

I've always been in love with the idea of happy endings. The ones where the prince saves the princess and they live happily ever after. I don't like to consider myself as a damsel in distress, but I cannot change my miserable reality. For years I prayed that my prince, my knight in shining amour would sweep me off my feet and take me away from this horrid life, but after I while, my hope slowly vanished. Now my only solace is writing in this journal. It feels therapeutic in a way to put my thoughts, fears and experiences in to words so I don't go mad.

My father is a very wealthy and respected business man. We used to have the picture perfect family. We had moved to America from Bulgaria in hopes of making a better living. My eldest brother and were model children and my parents were irrevocably in love with one another. We were the perfect family, until that one night that changed everything.

Every Sunday, we had an obligatory family get together. Everyone besides myself were contented to simply play a board game, but I had insisted on going to go see a movie. On the way back, my brother and I were bickering causing my dad to intervene. Our distraction obstructed him from seeing the trunk coming towards the passenger side.

My brother and my mother were killed instantly. My father and I suffered from minor concussions as well as a few broken bones. We had gotten it easy. After we had been released from the hospital, my father's demeanor changed drastically, he was no longer the loving father I had known and loved. In his place, a cold and stoic man.

At first I had blamed it on the event itself, thinking he needed time to mourn. After a few months, I thought maybe the trauma to his brain was more severe than the doctors had originally thought. But, after the first time he laid his hand on me, I knew the real reason for his change of attitude, me.

The abuse wasn't frequent in the beginning, a few times a month when I had gotten in his way, but the more the time had passed, the more frequent it became. If I looked him in the eye, if I didn't make his meals on time, if I showed up late, those were only a few of the reasons for beatings. I had never up up a fight, I mean, how am I, a measly 5'4, 120 pound girl supposed to defend herself against him, a 6'4, 200 pound beast. The physics and odds just weren't in my favor.

So for no all I can do is endure the pain until I find a way out of here. That is, if I don't succumb to his violence before...