Walking on the Red Carpet (OHSHC)

A Girl in a Host Club

I GOT 40 READS!!!!!!! I know it is not a lot compared to other books, but I am really thankful that people are reading my book! So, getting to skip the sappy part, we continue with the story!

I push myself off of the park floor. I gently touch the back of my neck and wince, snarling at the feeling.

"Crap," I mutter, "It's already morning." I shakily stand up, holding the bump on the back of my head, and grab the remains of my clothing. I tie up my shirt into a "stylish" bra/shirt thing and I wrap my ripped pants into a skirt. I walk back to the mansion, ignoring the weird looks of the guard. I walk inside and find a clock.

It's 4 in the morning, so I have time to get cleaned up. I look into the mirror and see bruises that hurt like hell when I touch them. Well, it is nothing that make-up can't hide. I first take a shower to find my hair is coated in dried blood. I must look like a corpse to everyone else in the park. I snarl again. No one even called the police or the hospital. Could they not see that I was dying? I rinse out my hair in the hot shower, wincing as the burning liquid touched my wounds. I gently wash my body and pat-dry myself with the towel. 

I look in the mirror cabinets, searching for the first aid kit. After after finding alcohol pads, I place them on my cuts and wounds. I hiss in pain, trying to stay quiet. My eyes puddle up in tears, but not a single on drips down. I wrap my my shoulder, which contains a deep cut, with gauze and bandage most of my cuts.

I apply foundation and concealer around my bruises on my face and some on my neck and look at my closet. I slip in my pajamas, and look at my better style. I see a pale girl that looks like she took one too many falls down the stairs. At least I don't look like I was beaten to death. My bruises are successfully covered, and my hair is covering the bump on the back of my head.

I sit in the table the Hitachiin's provided me and start on my homework. I have a few hours to complete it, so I guess that I'll have to use my study halls for once. I plug in my iPod and start typing on the computer.

To: Mom

Hey, I was wondering how you are doing. Life is good here. I am getting along with my clients and I only had one ecounter with my parents. I miss you. Contact me soon. Love you.

Love,

Your daughter

I close my laptop and pull out my books and get started on my homework. My fingers fly through the pages, finishing the problems quickly and precisely. Biting my tongue, I try to ignore the pain and my fatigue. I sigh, groaning as I get up, and walk out of my door. Maybe I could just get some coffee and some pain killers. Hopefully I can find them.

I step down the stairs and into the kitchen. The kitchen spreads far and wide with thousands of appliances. I sigh and search for ground coffee beans and a coffee maker. I groan when I find none. A kitchen staff peeps his head in to find me there.

"Do you need something?"

"Eep!" I squeak, making a very unflattering noise, "I am so sorry. I was trying to find a coffee maker, but I can't find it. Sorry," I mumble weakly.

"Coffee maker? We don't have them."

"Don't tell me that they make you ground them up?" The cook chuckles and nods.

"I thought you were another rich child, but it seems that you live the middle class life."

"Yeah, I would say I lived the lower class life and built my way up," I smile. "Sorry, you can go back to bed. I didn't mean to be a bother."

"No, I am taking the night shift. I am glad you came along, though. I was bored," he smiles, but then hushes, "Don't tell them that I said that though."