Sweet Violette

Chapter 1

I kicked a pebble out of my way, walking aimlessly ahead. It had been my dream from age fifteen, to break out of the "Home for Broken Teens". First of all, I was not broken, my life was just fucked up beyond words.

Ever had your mom watch you being abused by you step dad ? sexually...may i add? Or were you ever forced to sell drugs in school because your lazy ass mom didn't wanna work?

Anyway, after much plotting and pretending to be sick, i escaped the torture of the dumb home. It felt good being finally free, but where could i have gone? i had absolutely nobody in the fucking world who wasn't in prison or rehab. I was seventeen, so i figured this made me eligible for a simple job, and maybe i could sleep in someone's basement or garage. Beggars can't be choosers!

 I scanned my surroundings. Tiny bars.....men gambling...cigar smoke...where the fuck was i? I entered a bar out of curiosity and in the hopes of finding myself a job. "good day," i choked out amidst the smell of alcohol and the thick puffs of smoke. "18 and over kid," a man told me. I glared at him and snapped back " i am 18!"

" i.d?" he inquired. i paced back and forth in annoyance. "look can i get like a job around here ?" i asked a little out of patience. The men exchanged puzzled glances. " well not in this bar, but i heard the ole Clovins are hiring maids," a fat man with sweat soaking up his armpits finally said. He was just about all the fuel i needed to never eat again. "Clovins?" i inquired for confirmation. " yes...Clovins...c..h...no...l...wait...i" the man was trying to spell Clovins and i had absolutely no time to tutor a grown man on his alphabet and phonics skills. "umm. okay, can i please get directions to their home," i pleaded. A buff man stood and promised to take me there. I swallowed an invisible lump in my throat and followed the guy. Not being stereotypical but, unshaven, buff, jumper= scared asf.

We had walked a few blocks without talking when the guy decided to interrogate me. " where'd you live?" he asked me. I genuinely had no reply, so i shrugged. " don't be scared i dont bite," the man said to me, walking closer. " i am not scared," i tried to sound confident but the shakiness in my voice betrayed me. " this is it," the man pointed to a huge house in many compartments.....more like a chain of hotels. " thank you very much sir," i politely smiled and the man nodded and left. Who knew that the world had nice folks anymore? i rang the little thingy on the gate and a guy dressed as one of those fancy little butlers approached. " appointment?" he inquired, with a cold stare. " N--no," i stuttered. " Well the Clovins only attend to scheduled persons," the man scrunched up his nose as if i was snort. A boy rode up to me, on a skateboard. Maybe he was here for the maid job...?  " Moseley let her in ," the boy said as if irritated by the butler. "Sir Clovins," Moseley put on a fake smile."its Jake," the boy snarled. "hey girl," Jake's face softened as he waved me and i smiled a little.   As we entered through the gate he tried to start a conversation. "why are you here?" he asked me . " a maid?" i shrugged a little. Jake eyed me intently and i was getting freaked out. I turned away from him quickly. "your not over 18," he said softly. "says who?" i asked timidly. I was nervous and covered in goosebumps. With my thin built and perky breasts, I looked more like a thirteen year old. 

" i can tell," Jake said and stopped to watch me once more. I sighed in defeat. "i really need a job ," i admitted. " i'm not 18, I will soon be though, and i need a goddamn job," i shivered. Bewilderment covered his face. " you go to school?" he inquired. "not the issue here," i shot back. " talk to me," he stated. " i don't know you," i reminded him. "But you wanna work at my house?" he smirked. i stifled a giggle. "Touche," i smacked myself playfully on the face. " just talk to me," he cooed. Something about his voice made my skin tingle. I followed him to a small garden. "i planted all of these," he stated pointing to rows of beautiful flowers," I nodded a little, unsure of a perfect response. He smelt of a violet perfume which my dad bought me before he left mom. I sat next to him on a hammock chair and his arm curled around my waist. It was very uncomfortable and i shifted to get him to remove his arm. I had had my share of the tactics of males, they made you feel like  all would be fine then you're all used up and they're still brand new. "sorry," Jake looked flustered. "its okay," i tried to make the situation less awkward. " i am Tracy," i began. " cute name, do you know what it means?" Jake asked me. "its bold in Latin," i smiled. "pretty interesting," jake half smiled. 

" oh and don't tell anyone but i have escaped from an asylum," my own words surprised me. Why the fuck did i just say that? Jake looked horrified. Tears streamed down my cheeks and his soft hand pressed against my tear stained cheeks. A rush of panic overwhelmed me and i ran way from him like a maniac.I knew exactly what he wanted. Paul, my step dad promised that he was only comforting me. Then one night he appeared naked, my mom at his side grinning like a conniving bitch. He had no absolute mercy and left me battered and deflowered. I always hoped to meet the right man and marry him. I wanted my deflowering to be special, like on our honeymoon. But the bastard took that away from me. I was cheap now....what man would leave the new shiny spotless razor blade, for the used, cheap, thrown away one?

i kept running away from from Jake. I could have heard his footsteps catching up to me.