How I Met You

Chapter One

"Sara!" my father screamed. God, sometimes I hate that man. Yes I'm talking about my father.

"Yes sir." I answered by yelling back. I started to walk down the hall to the top of the stairs. Let me tell you a little about my father. No one and I mean no one said no or even ignored my father. Only one person ever had, she died that day.  

So let me tell you how I solve that particular a little problem. When he called, I came. When he said something, I paid attention. In addition, when he told me to do something, yep you guessed it. I do it right away.

John Coaster got whatever he wanted, if he didn't, then who ever was standing in his way ended up like my mother. Dead. She was the only person that had ever had the guts to stand up to him and she paid the ultimate price for it.

My father waited until I got down stairs. I took my time knowing what was coming. I always did, everyday ended up being the same thing. "Come over here, bitch." Well he was not that mad at least, I was slut then. Two different names to let me know if I was in big trouble or not. I don't know if he knows he does that, but either way it happened. I slowly walked up to him, keeping my eyes on the floor. It was rule number one that I was never to look at him in less told too. "Do you know why I called you down here?" He asked.

"Um...I didn't..." I sighed "No sir I don't" I shut my eyes knowing I couldn't do anything about what was about to happen.

"Open your eyes, bitch. I'm not going to hit you, this time." Oh, that's good. Wait what? I looked up at him not thinking. Was he okay? He might be an asshole, but he was still my father. I no longer know who this man was, but I do remember the man he once was.

By the time I realized what I had done, I was falling to the floor with a sharp pain on my left cheek. It was most likely going to leave a mark "You better remember that I'm your father. You should know this by now. Do you understand you stupid little slut?" He laughed at me and kneeled down on one knee next to me.

"Yes sir." I whispered.

"What was that?" he asked. I started to get up, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me to my knees. I didn't dare make a sound, even though it hurt like hell. That only made him love hurting me even more. Show a weakness and he used it.

"Y...yes sir." I stuttered. Before I could brace myself, he'd punched me in the ribcage. I fell down to the floor once again, my hands and knees were the only thing that was holding me up. He never punches me hard enough to break anything, but it still bruised and hurt.

"Get out of my sight and go clean yourself up. Oh, I almost forgot, try to look pretty for once, we're having people over." What the hell was going on? We never have people over. First, he doesn't hit me when I expect and now we're having people over. I nodded slowly and stood up the best I could. I felt the bruise on my torso already forming.

"Why are we...?" I stopped myself "I mean, yes sir." I turned to go up stairs, but stopped when John grabbed my arm tightly. Now what? I turned back around to see him smiling. That never happened! He was always pissed off about something. Always.

"I want you to cook us a big dinner and do a great job of it. You already know to look as hot as possible, but I have some rules girl, and you better follow them. Do not come out of that kitchen until you're putting food on the table." He pointed to the kitchen door. "Do not speak unless spoken too, do not look at anyone, and moreover, do what you're told when told. These people are very important to both of our lives, and if you fuck this up you'll get the beating of your life." I nodded slowly once again, who were these people? What did they have to do with me? What did John have planed for me? So many questions, but no answers. I do know that he can't wait to get me off his hands, but would he do something against the law in order to make that happen? On the other hand, it could be within the law. I turned and walked out of the living room and to the stairs thinking about these things.

When I got to my room, I put on my best dress. In fact it was my only dress. Then I put my mothers old favorite necklace on, John gave it to me after she died. Not because he was being nice or felt bad, but because he had to make people think he cared. He didn't want to spend any more money than he had to. So he gave me something that made it look like he gave me things without spending the money he loved.

I sat down on the floor next to my small air mattress and opened my very small makeup kit. Something else John would never give me in less he had a reason too. I had to cover up the marks no one was allowed to see. Of course.

He hit me harder then unusual this time. I had a red mark that would soon be blue. How was I going to cover this up? I was dead if I couldn't get this covered up, so I picked up my cover-up and was about to put some on my fingers. "Don't put that shit on" I jumped at the sound of my father's voice behind me. I turned around keeping my eyes on the empty floor. "These people tonight need to see that bruise on your cheek. I want them to know that I handle you the right way." He said. The right way? "I came up here" he went on "because I forgot to tell you that you'll be Beth tonight. I can't tell them that I call you by your mother's name, now can I?"

I'm Beth again?! I hadn't heard that name from him in years, since the day my mother was killed. Whoever these people were, I'm partly grateful. Bethany Nashelle Coaster. That's who I really am. The girl that has a love of reading, writing, writing music and painting. With her mother's talent. She got barred down deep years ago. My father turned and walked away, but I barely noticed.

My life wasn't always like this. I was once apart of a loving family of three. My hero of a dad, my encouraging mother, and me, the overly artistic daydreamer, of a daughter. We were so happy back then. My dad loved us both more then anything in this world. He would have died for us. That's until; he found his new love, money. He got promoted at work a couple times and discovered that the more he got the more he wanted. There was no turning back; he would do anything to get more.  

For mom and I, well we were out of the picture as far as he was concerned. He kept us around for his image, the no divorce (the loving family thing) but other than that, we were just something he couldn't get rid of.

Coming back to the present, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, made sure everything was in order and then got up, walked down to the kitchen. I know I can get through this, so here goes nothing.

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