Bad Boy Billionaire

Chapter 2

The house ^

POV: Skylar

I drag my quivering  body up the stairs quietly - away from the dreaded basement - using my all of my remaining strength.

As I tiptoe my way up them, I make sure not to step on any of the steps that make any sort of noise; because if he hears anything while he's sleeping, I will have a lot more injuries to worry about.

I've memorised which ones make noises and which don't, from walking up and down these steps countless times before.

As I reach the white door at the top of the stairs - I open it ever so slightly to inspect the kitchen, everything is neat and tidy, and just plain perfect. Everything in it's place. But where's my place?

I open the door and step onto the white marble flooring, all you can hear is my naked feet dragging along the polished floor. I don't feel as if I belong here at all. I don't belong in my own home...

I see small specks of dusk from where I just walked, and make a mental reminder to mop that up later - after I'm ready for school.

I crane my stiff neck towards the big clock hanging on the wall, it reads 5:27 am. Damn. I didn't think I slept that long.

I sigh in relief though because I know that they won't be up yet. I have enough time to get everything done.

I quickly brush through the door to the back garden, towards the 'guest house'; which is also known as my room. I'm not a morning person, I never have been. But I quickly got used to it after the bruises started appearing from not doing my chores.

I loved to sleep. Not for the actual sleep itself; but for the couple of hours in peace. A couple of hours in my own mind, away from everything.

But recently, even my sleep is tainted. It tortures me continuously. I'm in complete darkness and my demons love it. They take advantage of it.

So, something that I used to love, is now ruined again. That's what happens to everything though, isn't it?

Happiness could be there one day; and them completely disappear into the abyss the next without warning.

They didn't understand that I don't have enough time in the morning to clean the house, because I had to go to collage. But after they threatened to prevent me from going there, I quickly started to wake up earlier to ensure I had enough time.

I know they can afford a maid, they live in quite an expensive house - after all. But I think they like to know that I'm suffering further each day. But I wouldn't dare say anything, or I'll have the exact same results as last time. I wouldn't dare open my mouth again.

Quickly and quietly, I pad across the decking, brushing past the outside chairs: slowly getting further away from the house.

After I know I'm far enough for them not to hear me, I start to run. I jog past the outdoor pool into a secluded area of the back garden, trying to keep my arm as still as I can as I run along the small pathway: panting as I reach the small building I've called my home for the past 7 years. It's a very isolated area, tall dark trees surrounding most of it which block everything else from view.

Shooting pains stream through my body from my new broken ribs. My breathing shallows as I lean one arm on the outside door to steady my breathing.

Another injury to add to the collection.

They told me that they don't want a disgusting person like me in their house, spreading diseases and such. So, I ended up out here, the only other place they could put me.