Written in Ink

Chapter One

The violent wind tore through my pale blond hair as I walked down the street to my house. My family was reasonably wealthy, so I went to a private girls' school in the city. Despite this, I didn't have many reasons to be happy at the time. My grades were shit and my parents... Whatever fell below shit. They fought constantly and only had a mind for me when I made them look bad. It was natural to have lost affection.

As I approached the front door, I could hear the aggressive screams of my mother and father. It was always like this, but tonight the fight seemed particularly worse.

I could tell by the sound of a vase or something smashing. Whatever it was was made of glass, and sure to cut the one who tried to clean up the mess. I knew because it wouldn't be me. It would be one of my drunken parentals.

Screaming and slurring at the same time had to be some sort of talent, right?

After a few moments, I decided to walk to the nearby park to spend the night. Everyone would fall asleep in a few hours, so hopefully, I'd be able to sneak back in and father would never know.

I walked the short mile to my sanctuary and felt my heart break a little. Construction equipment littered the lot. There was no way I could safely wait out the storm where I normally did.

I had no choice but to carry on into the city. If I was lucky, I could make a loop and be back soon enough to crawl into bed before the sun rose.

The lack of sleep will kill you off one day, Alicia Thorne. Assuming dear old dad doesn't do it first.

Before I knew it, I was deep into the city. Lights flickered around me. Clearly, this was the low budget end of the city.

I was passing a love hotel when a hand gripped my wrist.

Whipping around, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Three men stood behind the one who held me in place. I never thought the day would come when it might have been safer to stay home.

The men jeered and prodded me in inappropriate ways. I screamed, but no one paid any mind as they dragged me into an alleyway. Tears fell down my cheeks. Just when I was about to give up the last seventeen years I survived, a cotton-clad savior appeared.

The man was six feet tall at least, and his black hair fell just above his piercing gray eyes. He ground out, "What the hell do you think you're doing to her?"

The men laughed. "Oh, has the hero appeared?"

The mysterious man laughed back, "Yep. Hero with a gun."

Before they could make a move, he revealed the claim to be true, pointing it at the man who held me. He looked like he was about to speak, but he never got the chance. The quartet of thugs ran off.

Shaking, I fell to my knees. I sat there for a moment as I reassured the man over and over that I was fine. I tried to stand, but fell.

His once harsh voice spoke softly to me, "My name's Xavier. Listen, kid, it's not safe for you to be out this late. Let me take you to my office and you can go home in the morning."

Weak and tired, I agreed. If I got killed, I'd rather it be this man than some thugs or my father. Xavier carried me on his back and I told him my name.

He said, "I'll call you Ali then. Don't get into any more trouble. You're lucky I was there. For now, go ahead and rest. I'll wake you up in the morning."

I trusted Xavier. It was foolish, but I did. And so I obeyed, drifting off as I held on to the most comfortable back in the world.

A/N

I wrote these first three chapters in June. Somewhere, I have the plot notes and everything. If not, I'll have to build a new one, because damn. I wrote this? Me? No. Not possible.

I can't exactly abandon it anymore, when I literally inspired myself. If I can inspire myself, surely someone else as well, right?

With love,

Staccatto