Maid to Run

Prologue

One minute she was there, and now she's not. Not that it would make much difference, she didn't really care for me anyway.

My mother was now dead, because of herself. Not purposely, but stupidly. She was hooked on heroin, it started with a few injections a week - then it turned to one every few hours hence why I was stood in her room watching her as she lay lifeless with a needle hanging out of her left arm.

I stood frozen on the spot, all I came in for was to give her a glass of Jack and Coke she ordered me to get for her. Yes, ordered, not asked because to her I wasn't a daughter - I was a servant, a helping hand and that's all I'd ever been.

My father who lived in Russia, got my mother pregnant when she was there on vacation. She didn't hesitate to tell him when she found out, she thought they were in love. Ha. Of course, he moved to America with her and things were just peachy keen until four years after she had me.

She became depressed, and neglectful and all my parents did was argue. One time my dad was away for work for the weekend and she'd forgotten to feed me, stayed in bed and yelled at me when I dared to ask for food or even a hug when I was crying, I had to eat stale bread and out of date twinkies until he got back.

That's apparently when he'd had enough, he divorced my mother and took her to court to gain custody over me. Of course he won when they figured out my mother needed psychological help and took her to a psychiatric unit for six months.

For the next three years I lived life happily with my father, but indubitably love never conquers all and something would always get in the way of it - in this case it was death. My dad suffered a cardiac arrest when I was at school, this was discovered when nobody came to pick me up that day and the local police department took me home when they saw a seven year old attempting to walk home alone.

My heart was left broken when the police had to break down the door to my house and walk in to discover that "Daddy is in the sky, that's why he didn't pick you up." was what I was told. When an ambulance arrived I heard the medics talking about ventricular fibrillation or something and how that caused his sudden death and lead him to have a cardiac arrest, I didn't understand that but mostly I didn't understand why this had to happen to me.

There was nobody to look after me since one set of my grandparents lived in Russia, and the other two were dead. I had no aunts or uncles, or older brothers and sisters so I was forced to move back in with my mother, except this time she had company. Permanent company.

Paul. My step father. I knew my mother had gotten married in secret a couple of years after she and my dad broke up, but I didn't know her new 'type' was monsters. Paul was the meanest, most sadistic man I knew yet my mother 'loved' him. More like she loved his money, and his connections he had to get her the drugs she needed.

As soon as I met Paul I knew he'd cause me a lot of problems. My mother was annoyed that I had to move back in with her, but due to not wanting any more trouble with the law she fed me, bathed me and put a roof over my head - all of which was a burden to her. Paul on the other hand, seemed to enjoy my company - or enjoy hurting me.

Whenever my mother was high, or out of the house and she left me alone with him he'd be drinking a lot and then he'd beat me, just because. And when he wasn't drinking, he still tried to use me. He'd make me polish his shoes, iron his clothes and cook. When I couldn't do these things, he'd hit me or threaten me.

Despite this, Paul never molested me, but he told me "When you're a bigger girl, I'll show you what I do to mommy at night time." I didn't understand what that meant until now.

I turned sixteen a few months ago, and since then Paul had humiliated me and tried to make me do disgusting things to him. When I refused to do so, he either forced me to pleasure him or he hit me and once he'd finished he rubbed himself in front of me like he had been aroused by hurting me.