Chapter One

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If you did not read the A/N, go back and read it!!

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I frown.

What was that for?

All I did was smile at the man.

It truly is my fault, though.

I know how hideous my smile is, yet I continue to smile.

My scars probably make my smile worse.

I only have two scars on my entire body, save my hands, and they are both on my face. Father is adamant about Mother never leaving a lasting mark on me, but that time she did not listen.

Now I have two parallel scars that go straight up and down my face. One starts right below my right eye and ends at my jaw. The other starts at the outer corner of the same eye and ends at my jaw as well.

I sigh as the red faced man shuffles away. I walk silently down the hall trying to avoid anyone. Not that people seek me out. Unless it is Marie and Jade.

I like to call them the devil twins.

And that's my nicest nickname for them.

I slip into the training room where I am required to put in a minimum of three hours every day of training and working out. Mother loves to enforce this rule with punishments. Although, the training can be a bit of a punishment itself.

Unfairly enough, Jade and Marie never have to train. According to everyone, they are far too beautiful to waste time on training.

Speak of the devils and their master will arrive.

Mother is standing in wait for me.

Instantly, I gauge her mood out of habit.

It is important to know whether she is in raging psychotic bitch mood or creepy psychotic bitch mood. Both are terrible, but they require different actions. Raging mood means I need to be very careful and on guard because I know she will beat me until her rage is over. Creepy mood requires me to be her perfect doll.

There is a small indent above her left eyebrow and the right corner of her mouth is lightly curled.

Creepy mood it is.

My back goes ramrod straight. My vivid green eyes are vacant and unblinking. I take tiny breathes that go unnoticed.

I am a more or less living doll.

"Oh, my little doll," Mother cooes. "It's a shame, really. All the training and discipline and you are still so ugly that it doesn't matter. But, there is no reason to worry, I will always keep you no matter how ugly you are, my little doll."

I remain vacant and unmoving.

Over the years, I have learned to never move until Mother wants me to. Then, she will expect me to move whether or not she tells me her expectations.

It is lovely trying to guess and figure out what she wants.

Ah, sarcasm.

My bestie.

Mother scans me with dull brown her eyes letting me know we are leaving the room to go see someone.

"You brushed your hair, right?" Mother asks suspiciously looking me over.

"Yes, Mother," I tell her smoothly.

Mother says I must be very careful with how I talk and talk as little as possible. She really hates my voice. But it's okay, I hate her voice too.

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