His World

Chapter 1

Hey people's thanks so much for wanting to read the journey of Laylie and Asher. The story starts out a bit slow at first but soon picks up real fast. Give it a chance. You never know until you read lol. Anyway please leave comments and suggestions and tell me what you think of the book.

✌🏼️

Laylie

I never really understood why people chose certain paths in their lives. It only takes one decision, one action, one mistake to ruin an innocent life filling it with pain. Especially to someone you love? Like when my father up and left us all of a sudden. All the laughs we shared. All the comforting words he would tell me when I would get bumps or bruises. All those nights he would tuck me into bed and tell me the story of the powerful King who would do anything to protect his Princess. Gone. And it only took one small decision. That never really processed in my head why a man would leave his wife and 6-year-old daughter with nothing. Not even a reason as far as I know.

My father's leaving had meant we had to move homes due to our financial instability. Also, my mother could not bear the memory our previous home held of my father.

Slowly my mother began deteriorating. First, it was the lack of smiles. Then the 'I love you's' disappeared. Finally, it was like a switch was turned on for her to despise my existence. She would criticize everything I did making me feel I had no purpose. Blaming me for my father leaving us. My own mother slowly became the monster in my childhood nightmares haunting me day and night.

In my eyes she wasn't my mother anymore, rather a painful virus that you can't seem to get rid of and whatever you do it just hurts you, even more, breaking you slowly.

RING RING.

My alarm goes off even though I am already up. I quickly shut it off and throw my princess blankets off of me. I've had those since I was 6. My mother never bothered buying me any "luxury" items as she called it. At least she still bought food for the house, well-frozen packages from the corner gas station whenever she was sober enough to go out, but its still something.

I sit on the edge of the bed and start to feel a bit dizzy. Mother forgot to buy food so I hadn't eaten since breakfast of yesterday. I let out a sigh, and try to regain my balance trying not to fall over as I start to stand up. My feet hit the rough carpet and my thin worn out sweatpants reach just above my ankles.

I look around my room, it's small and cluttered. A tiny window lets in some source of vitamin D, a small table holds my chipped lamp and school work, the gray rug holds my blood and memories of the monster sleeping just across the hall.

I try to keep it clean, but I don't even have a closet or dresser to put my clothes in. Instead, they just lay folded on the floor. I barely have any anyway. Mother sold most of our belongings once she lost her job. The little money she did have would be spent drinking herself dry or on cigarettes. When I was eight she had held me down burning me with the death stick because I had gotten dirt on our kitchen floor.

I hate cigarettes.

Our bathroom is not good either, the chipped walls make a decorative touch oh and also the mysterious stain on the ceiling ties it all together. I let out another long sigh and flip on the bathroom light and instantly I squint my blue eyes due to the harsh brightness. It reminds me of a morgue.

Grabbing my toothbrush I smear what bit left of toothpaste there is on it and brush my teeth. The faucet whistles as the water pours, I then wash my face.

My light brown hair is then pulled into a loose braid. I look in the mirror at myself and notice my pale skin from being kept up in my room– hiding from her. Bags hang under my eyes due to my exhaustion. Lifeless. I sigh in relief noticing no bruise this time on my face.