It's What You Do To Me

                                                                      CHAPTER ONE

     I roll over in my bed to the sound of my alarm clock screaming. The sun piercing my eyes, causing temporary blindness. I made it through another night. I made it. Most people don't find it very surprising to wake up in the morning. Some people go to sleep not wanting to wake up in the morning. I belong to the second category. Getting away from my Father, and His twenty- nine year old best friend Evan would be a blessing sent from heaven. Even if getting away from them meant death for myself.

     My Dad is twenty- seven years old. Hes a clean cut Lawyer at a big law- firm the goes by the name of 'Jason Oliver Law'. Yes, it is his very own business. Anyone in the world would think my Dad is a very attractive man with the nice styled hair, his big blue eyes, his dark tan, and his muscular body.. My Father was only sixteen when he got my mother pregnant. He was a typical football player who knew all the right words to say, and all the right moves to make. On and off the field, my Dad got whatever he wanted. When I was ten years old my mother got killed in a car crash. It was very brutal, and some people think my Father was behind it. Or at least that's what all the whispers behind my back tell me.

   "Hazel Jane Oliver, if you're late for school I'm going to make sure you're punished!" The words that boomed out of my Dad's mouth gave me a chill up my spine. A punishment for most seventeen year old teenagers would be restriction from their cell phone.. A restriction like that would be something I've never had the privilege of experiencing. You see, my Dad has a very different way of punishing me. "I'm awake, I'm getting ready now, Sir". My voice nearly shakes as I try and shove the words out of my mouth. I force myself out of my bed and stumble across my tiny bedroom to the bathroom. My house is very small, considering that only my dad and I live here. It's so small I can hear my Dad's "company" moaning. My dad always bring's what he calls, business woman home with him after work. When I was fifteen, he decided that he would show me what a business woman is all about..

   I turn the hot water on in the shower until it is almost hot enough to give the hand I'm checking the tempeture with third degree burns. I open the medicine cabinet, and I move my tooth paste over. I look at that shiny blade, and a smile comes accross my face. Just one little cut and it'll all be okay. I grab the razor and get into the shower. I hold the blade firm and slowly start to trace my wrist with it. I notice a tear start to fall from my face and I pushed the blade just ever so slightly. I move it sluggishly across my wrist and here it comes. The crimson red that is so bad for me, but makes me feel so good. The blood flows out of me, and a smile flows over my face. Now for my favorite part. I hold my arm under the scorching hot water, the sting of my fresh cut so strong i nearly fall on my knees. Are you happy now Daddy? Is this what you like? 

   After the bleeding calms down a shut off the water and get out of the shower. I look into the tiny mirror, seeing my horrid reflection. My hair is wavy and messy, it falls right past my breast. My eyes big and green, like my mother's. The one or two pimples around my mouth, and my thin eyebrows. No one will ever love you. You're such a discrace. I wrap a towel around myself and walk to my bedroom. I open my closet and I get the over- whelming feeling I get every morning. So many clothes, all name brand and expensive. My dad would never let me go out in public with nothing but the best clothes on. If all eyes are not on me when I walk into a room, it makes him think that people will think less of us. With a father like mine, it's all about appearance.