Unconditionally, Inevitably, Forever Yours.

Everything Happens For a Reason.

"Another beer!" My Uncle Dale slurred, pounding his fist on the counter top beside me. I looked over at him to see his eyes circled with dark lines and bloodshot pupils.

I blame the drugs.

Nodding, I walked over towards the fridge only to find it looking rather bare. I bit my lip, realizing Uncle Dale isn't going to take the beer-shortage situation easily.

"No beer." I muttered, loud enough for him to hear, but not moving any closer so that I'm in an arm's distance. He looked up at the word "beer" and his anger immediately began to simmer.

"What?" He demanded, moving agonizingly slowly from his bar stool towards me.

"No. Beer." I grumbled louder. I took a stride back every time he came forward. He backed me up against the counter top and whipped his hand across my face, leaving a harsh, momentary sting and possibly a red mark.

"Well go buy some then." He hissed darkly, looking at me dead in the eyes. I refused to break contact but as his sinister glare was hardening, I slowly started to cower in fear.

"I can't, I'm not of legal age. Plus, we have no money." His gaze faltered, as if he remembered something about me for once, but in the blink of an eye returned back to it's cold focus.

"I am the only supplier for this household! You need to get a job, you worthless piece of crap." He smacked me across the face again, "You will pay me back for allowing your scandalous-self in my house, understand?"

I nodded meekly, making no effort to speak.

He grunted once then exited the room, leaving me alone.

                                                                                      ***

“What do you say ‘bout working in a Library?” My Uncle asked, slightly more sober than the night before, fortunately.

 “Are you implying that I actually have a say in the matter?” I questioned disbelievingly; mouth agape, wide eyes, the whole ordeal just to present detest towards him.

 “Of course not. You are my bitch, meaning that I have control over you and you can’t do anything about that.” He whispered angrily before looking over his shoulder at his friends and their women lounging on the beer-stained couch, who were oblivious to our conversation. “So,” He started, louder and happier than the previous statement. “Library it is then. Great.”

 He rose from his seat, walking with a straighter posture compared to his slouched drunken stumble, came towards me and ruffled my dirty blond hair arousing multiple coos from the women in the room, fawning over Dale’s” loving affection towards his adorable little niece”.

I mentally rolled my eyes at their dumb antics.

 “Hey Dale, what’s it like taking care of a little girl like April? She is such a delight; you sure have raised her well.” One woman with extremely red (most likely dyed) hair, sitting on my Uncle’s best friend’s lap, her slutty blood red outfit revealing most of her cleavage in an extremely unflattering way (in my opinion) said.

 She should see the bruises and scars. I scoffed out loud, and then covered it up immediately with a fake cough.

 “May I be excused, Uncle Dale?” I asked with courteous, of course pretending for the men and “their” women.

 “No, we have guests. I suggest you sit down beside Darrel and make polite conversation.” He responded. My eyes widened and I pivoted on my heel to be greeted with Darrel’s flirtatious grin and then turned back to Dale to see him wearing a knowing smirk, purposely trying to make me uncomfortable.