Ch.1

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ERIN

The loud clattering of glass dishes filled my ears. The sink filled to the brim with soapy suds as I scrubbed a pan, trying to rid it of pasta remains I'd had for supper. The tomato sauce had dried quickly and had stuck to the pan, clinging and being a pain in my neck. Using a fingernail I scraped the last of the sauce off and placed it in the sink to my right. Taking an old table cloth I dried my hands and the counter surrounding the sink. I started humming as I untied my apron and opened a window to filter out the smell of food that still lingered around the quaint, little kitchen.

Anyone would think I am a mother of three kids who are now in bed sleeping upstairs. That was not the case. I'm just eighteen and was too eager to move out of my parents house, to exhausted to deal with their bickering anymore. They just yelled about how I shouldn't go out and dye my hair blue or pierce my ears again. So I left to someplace far away in Canada, away from them in the states. They had no way to contact me and with that I was happy.

A loud rap on the mahogany door distracted me from my vigorous cleaning. I headed out into the foyer, unlocked and opening the door, revealing the mailman. "Oh, hello?" I said questioningly. I didn't know why he would be coming so late, or why his uniform was so muddy and stretched over his fat stomach.

"Uh, yes. Are you Monica Dean?" He asked looking down at a clipboard. I noticed a small package tucked under his arm, it was simply wrapped in brown paper.

"No. I have no idea who that is." I stated rudely, annoyed to be bothered this late. He looked up at me and glared.

"Alright goodbye mis-" he was cut off by a sharp growling. My dog. Jax. He shot out from between my legs, and because he was such a big dog he knocked me over. I lay on the wood flooring and grit my teeth, looking up to see the fat mailman running away to his white van parked at the end of a very long, and twisting lain way. Mud clung to his already crusty shoes as my dog chased, snapped, and barked at him. The man climbed into the van and slammed the door. It shut with a loud resonating bang. He manually rolled down the window and laughed at my now panting dog. He gave me the finger and the van lurched off and disappeared onto the gravel road that leads to my house and my neighbours who lived miles away. Good riddance. Now I really felt like a mother, with an old back and hairs escaping from her tight bun.

"Jax! Come here boy." His head tilted to look at me. He gave my a loud and playful bark before bounding off into the woods. Shit. I got up and dusted off the dried mud from my black leggings, the mailman had kicked it up as he scurried away. I grabbed Jax's leash and collar that hung from the row of iron hooks hanging by the door. Shrugging on a yellow rain coat I also slipped on my black bog boots and stepped out into the darkening night. I could see easily in the dark so I wasn't worried.

Small twigs crackled under my step. The straggling birds cawed in the distance. I swerved to avoid stray branches getting stick in my hair, and pushed shrubs and large, waxy leaves out of my way. "Jax!" I called out. I heard his bark a couple yards to my left. He always liked to play his version of hide and seek. I'd call and he'd bark, always thinking that we were playing an energetic game.

"Jax!" I called out again. "Come here,"

"Why?" A voice yelled back. I froze like a deer caught on someones lawn. Every noise continued, the yipping of my dog, the birds erratic chirps, and the stomping of someone else in these woods. "Why don't you come here?" He shouted out again, "i'm sure you're a pretty little lady, aren't you?" I was scared now.

"Jax! Jax! Come here!" I didn't want to let the panic into my voice but my voice trembled. Getting raped was not on my list of things to do, why would it be on anyone's list?

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