Nobody Knows: JayDee's Story

Prologue

*Jessie*

I turned to the man I thought was my father. “You can't tell me how to live my life.” He was getting in my face because I told him I had a job, but I wouldn't tell him where.
But, would you like to know the kicker, he's a religious bastard who thinks singing as a job is a sin. The problem was that if I was going to hell I wasn't going due to the singing.

He backhands me across the face, just scowled at him. “You gay, demon whore. I fed you and clothed you since your whore mother died.”

That was eight years ago, and that was the only thing that he knew would hurt me, since reform school didn't “cast away my demons”. I faked that I liked men to get out, but I couldn't seem to fool this jerk.
I never knew my birth father, but at the age of four my mother married this guy thinking she would give me a better life. I hope she died believing that she made the right choice.

The jerk I'm referring to, is the man in front of me. The only one I knew as my father, Kenneth Devins, Kenny, Ken, an immoral, hypocritical bastard.

He seemed to hate me more when I brought home any books referring to alternative religions to study, the Wiccan books pissed him off enough to call the school and ask for them to be taken out of the library. He couldn't get this done since it was a public high school, after all, and  then proceeded to burn the book in front of me. When I went to school the next day, I explained what happen to the principal. He said as long as the money was paid back I wouldn't be held accountable. Knowing he wouldn't pay for the book, I had to pay back the school with what little money my maternal grandparents gave me for my last birthday. Nice, huh?

Anyways, I'll get back to the ugly matter in front of me. I had gotten a job at local fair to sing before One Direction, granted I don't prefer to listen to their music, but they seemed like nice guys. I never really liked men and being around my father made that abundantly clear, which I wouldn't say, so I wouldn't get hit again.

Being that the job had me singing wasn't really the major issue, it was that the ad asked for a male singer. I was glad I didn't get asked questions when I asked my best friend Anna Devins, which was no relation to me, for wrap to hide what little I had up top for the audition. I oddly had a more universal figure than most girls my age.

I was waiting for him to leave me alone so I could head to school. My guitar, Ibz, was waiting for me to grab below my bedroom window.

He blew out a breath in defeat, “Go to school you inconsiderate little bitch.” I was over eighteen, after all.

With my stuff packed in my bag for later, I almost ran out the door to the side of the house to grab Ibz, and ran to school