Prologue

When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of one day

becoming a princess. I always loved watching those classical
cartoons of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Beauty and the
Beast, Anastasia and the Little Mermaid. But my most favoured one
of them all was Cinderella. The story of a beautiful girl that
was not quite a princess, but a princess all the same. She was
devoted to her family and hard working, despite them taking
advantage of her devotion and turning her into a mere servant.
Regardless of how her family treated her, she remained beautiful
in body and kind in heart. That alone made her a princess higher
above all the others at least to me. The best thing about these
stories is that they always end happily. Cinderellas story ended
with her finding her knight in shining armor, her handsome
prince, coming to save her from her life of hardships. They lived
happily ever after. Thats what the reader would assume at
least, since it doesnt continue on from there, the story doesnt
progress any further telling you about how they divorce and have
to divide all the assets or have a long court battle over custody
of their children.
As I grew a little older, I began my own search for my
prince, perhaps it was a little too soon or perhaps youre not
even supposed to search at all but wait for him to come to you.
Doing both, I waited and waited, searched and searched but never
found or came across anything or anyone for that matter. My
mother trained me well though, taught me how to be a perfect lady
if I so chose to be one. She taught me how to sit up straight,
keep my legs closed (both figuratively as well as literally), and
how to eat like a proper lady using manners at the table. If I
didnt want to practice those skills at every waking moment, she
would try to scare me by saying, no boy will ever ask you out on
a date, if you behave like that, or her favourite line that
really dug in deep, you will never get married if you slouch
like that. Really, I just wanted to be a kid and try to indulge
in those short and few moments that Ill never have back, but to
her, childhood was just a training period training to become a
woman. That was all before things turned sour, she didnt pay
much attention to me after that.

At the time, I didnt take it very seriously; with my

childish naivety I truly thought that all human beans were
equal. I never saw any of my classmates as girl or boy, black,
white, brown, yellow or grey and anything else in between. I saw
them as just that, classmates. So simply we perceive things in
childhood that adulthood corrupts our natural ideals and twist us
into the wretched creatures that run all the institutions that
make the world continue to twirl. Actually, the world will always
twirl, regardless of our existence on it; we just like to believe
we make it function with our narrow-minded perspective which is a
result of our inherent fear of not existing at all.
But the real question is why do we fear non-existence? If
non-existence is Heavenly Bliss, why do we fear it? Is it,
perhaps, because we fear happiness? We have a strange fear of
attaining all of our greatest desires? Or maybe its the work
leading up to the reward that we live for, and finally having
happiness within our reach is frightening because the work will
be done, theres nothing left for us to do. Aldous Huxley once
said in Brave New World, Actual happiness always looks pretty
squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery.
And, of course, stability isnt nearly so spectacular as
instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a
good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a
struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or
doubt. Happiness is never grand. If this is true, why are we
raised and taught to spend our whole lives in the pursuit of
happiness, when it is impossible to reach, that even when we
reach it, we will still never be happy? Are we raised to have
goals and ambitious that purposely intersect with anothers,
pitting us against each other to make things more interesting?
Spending a lot of time alone during my childhood, Id often
wonder these things. Wondered why the only real happiness we feel
is when weve conquered another.
...
My parents, once upon a time, lived happily in a love filled
dream world much like the cartoons I idolized in youth. My mother
of Mtis origin lived on a reserve in northern Quebec. Not far
from that little reserve was a training base for the Canadian
military, which is where my father was transferred during the

first years of his service in the army. Prince Thomas and

Princess Natalia, I used to imagine how they felt for each other,
turning their love life into a fairytale. She was 19, recently
graduated from high school and managed to find work on the base
doing laundry for the soldiers. My father was 31 at the time, he
did have a girlfriend already back in the city but that still
didnt stop him from my mothers striking beauty. It was
effortless, or at least it used to be. I remember how she looked
back then; I try and keep those fond memories of her as my only
memories of her. She was tall and slim, yet with a curvaceous
body. She was ultra feminine with sleek perfectly sculpted facial
features, bright brown doe eyes and long dark brown hair. The
only word to describe her is stunning, or better yet,
electrifying. My father was magnetised to her electrical pull so
much that he completely forgot he had a woman waiting for him
back home. Hed never seen any other woman quite like her. When
they managed to come together for the short time they were on
that base, I was already conceived before they parted ways. My
father going back to the city, and my mother returning to the
reserve, they exchanged information and kept in contact. Three
months later, she found out about her unexpected pregnancy and
quickly tried to contact my father but his girlfriend was the one
who answered the phone. Yielding, soon the little fairytale was
over just as quickly as it had begun, Natalia found out her
Prince Thomas was engaged to be married to this strange woman she
never even knew existed and her whole world came tumbling down.
She was so in love, and love drove her to move into the city to
bring her little baby girl closer to her father. I was four years
old when it happened.
Four years after my conception, Thomas was married to this
woman but had no children with her. My mother tried many times to
contact him over the years but he was brutally loyal to the woman
to whom he had no family with. One day she managed to get through
when she showed up with me on his front step, I remember exactly
how it all went down. It was a cool summer Sunday early in the
morning. My mother dressed me in my nicely polished shoes and my
little red dress, it had a poufy frilled petticoat that made me
feel like a princess, and it was my favourite. She tied my
freshly shampooed curls into two ribboned pigtails that bounced
as I walked, encouraging me to bounce with them every step I
took. I thought we would be going to church that morning but

while she buckled me in the back seat of the car, she told me,
were going to a special place today, a different place. She
said she was taking me to see her prince, taking me to see Daddy.
I instantly became excited, church was so boring and all the
other kids teased me and I hated it. I wanted to see Mommys
prince, because I knew she was a princess, it was all too
exciting that I couldnt stop wiggling and squirming in my seat.
The next moment was when I realized that fairytales dont always
end happily, in fact they rarely ever do.
When we got there, it was a small house, if my memory is
correct; it was a red brick house with a white picket fence near
Flint and 10th st. When we pulled up she stopped in front, turned
off the ignition and breathed deeply for a brief moment that
seemed like forever. She was nervous but at the time I couldnt
understand why. Mummy, why are you breathing so loud, I wanna
see Prince Daddy!
After a short moment, she said In a minute dear, Daddy works
very hard and we may have come too early in the morning. He may
still be sleeping, we wouldnt want to upset Daddy on our first
visit, sweetie.
Okay, I said, patiently waiting with the energy of excitement
pumping through every ounce of my tiny frame.
Its only 9:47, he could be sleeping until noon. Or he could be
busy making breakfast right now for his family. She went on, we
wouldnt want to disturb his sleep or ruin his Sunday morning
breakfast would we? He may also have gone to church and hasnt
returned yet... I was so confused, here we were ready, sitting
right in front of his lawn and we werent getting out of the car.
I didnt understand, it seemed as if she was trying to find
excuses to convince herself to turn back around. Finally my
patience broke, I couldnt take it anymore the anticipation was
killing me, I was too young to die.
Mummy, Ill be sad if I dont get to see him, and Daddy will be
sad too! I said. Her mood quickly changed, earlier she was
feeling happy and light hearted, to nervous and edgy, and now she
was downright sour.

Keep quiet! she yelled,you are ruining everything! Youre the

reason why he wont see us, just shut up and keep quiet or you
wont see him at all! Whenever she yelled at me, it always made
me so nervous and anxious, I couldnt help it. Despite being so
cheery earlier from the excitement of finally seeing my father, I
began to cry. At this she quickly opened the door and got out of
the car to wipe my tears. I could never hate her, as much love as
she had inside; she was still only human like everyone else.
Oh honey Im so sorry, I didnt mean what I said Im just
really excited to see him just as much as you are, she said
wiping away my tears. Its okay, well be going in shortly dont
you worry sweetie, I promise. After she said that I began to
hiccup my tears back into my eyes and blew my nose on the tissue
in her hand. My little soldier, she said with a beautifully
sweet smile.
After she unbuckled me from the seat and placed me on my
feet, she closed the door and locked it. We began to slowly make
our way to the front porch, I felt the tension through my
excitement and every step we took closer made it seem as if the
door was taking a step further away. Once we finally reached the
door, after the thirteen steps I kept count of, she lifted me up
to push the door bell with my tiny index finger. She placed me
back on my feet beside her, hand in hand I could feel her palms
become clammy and her fingers trembling she was afraid. I
didnt know what she was afraid of at the time until the door
opened. From it, this stout, plump black woman opened the door.
She did not look very happy and had a sour look on her face, Who
the hell are you? she asked in a sharp tone, I could almost see
the knife cutting through my mothers heart.
I Im a friend of Thomas, she said catching her breath.
My mother was a strong woman. I came to visit him with my
daughter adding emphasis on my, she attempted to fool the
woman into thinking he wasnt my father. It didnt fool her.
You think I dont know who you are? You think Im that
dumb? Every question she asked her voice became louder and
louder, stronger and stronger, harsher and harsher. You think
you can just show up here with your bastard? What you think that
because you have a child with him he will come back to you? she
continued to spit her venom, Because I cant give him one, you

think he will take you over me? This ugly little mutt shouldnt
even exist! At that, she immediately reached for my mothers
hair and tugged it as hard as she could. When I shrieked, she
kicked me in the gut and I flew across the porch and landed on my
ass. When I was out of the way, my mother defending me punched
the woman in the jaw, but she was sturdy and pulled my mother by
the hair to the floor. She then mounted her and began strangling
the life out of her, I was crying and screaming and then I got up
and slapped the womans ears as hard as I could. She screamed
when her ears popped and fell sideways. My mother then sat up
holding her throat and gasping, mounted the woman and began to
bash her head against the floor while using her hair as a grip.
At that moment, Prince Thomas came pulling into the driveway, but
he wasnt here to save my mother and me from the evil witch, this
time the prince came to the witchs rescue.
Completely ignoring my presence, he pushed my mother off of
the woman and helped her up. I didnt know he was my father at
that moment so I ran to my mother to hold her and protect her
from this strange man. Finally noticing me he said, Natalia... W
Who is this child? Whats going on here? What on Earth is going
on? Angrily, the woman rose to her feet and spat at me. My
father pushed her back and she began struggling with him but he
was much stronger and held her arms. What are you doing, why are
you doing this, what has happened?
Wiping away the spit from my forehead with her sleeve, my
mother picked me up and rose to her feet. This is your baby girl
Thomas. I came so you could meet her, I came so she could see her
father, but you werent here. With a cut lip, and a trickle of
blood dripping down the side of her forehead, my mother slowly
carried me off back toward the car. Shocked and confused, Thomas
just watched as she walked away. We never went back there, and he
never spoke to us again.
...
After that fierce battle with the evil witch, Princess
Natalias Prince charming was deceived by her black magic. He was
lost and could never be found; this fairytale had a sad ending,
though it wasnt over yet. My mother eventually got over it,
after many weeks hearing her crying locked up in her tower; Id
sometimes wish I could turn into a prince and save her from

captivity. But she was depressed; this princess lost all hope and
didnt want to be saved any longer for her prince charming was
gone, never to return. She wanted to be sleeping beauty, except a
sleeping beauty that never woke up. Two years after that incident
she grew more and more depressed, had lost her job from poor
attendance and sour behaviour. With nothing else to do with
herself she managed to acquire social assistance to cover our
bare necessities and her developing drug habit. Three years
later, after I had turned 9 years old, she met a drug addict at
one of the local bars in the neighbourhood. His name was Charlie
and he was far from a prince. He was more like a toad, that no
matter how many times youd try to kiss it, hed always remain a
toad. He was short, fat and pasty-skinned. Whenever he was fucked
up from drinking or snorting too much, his ugly bulbous nose
would turn red like Santa Claus with round reddened cheeks to
match, he was repulsive to look at. My mom, only 29 at the time,
was slowly letting herself go, becoming almost as repulsive as he
was. Charlie was 46, had no children and never married, which
really wasnt a surprise to me at all. There was nothing really
good about him, he was an addict and a slob, wore the same dirty,
sweat-stained, yellow-armpited wife beater undershirt that was
characterized by him. He was just as repulsive in personality as
he was to look at, definitely no eye-candy this one. He was
arrogant and glutinous, lazy, smelly and filthy. I feel bad just
describing him as if what he embodies is an insult in itself.
Overall he was just disgusting, I didnt like him one bit,
especially later that year.
I remember it so vividly in my mind that winter, when I was
near 10 years old, is when it all started. My mother hadnt seen
her family on the reserve for many years at this point, and after
Christmas, she wanted to spend New Years over there. Not having
enough money for all of us to go, she decided to go by herself.
Ill only be gone for a week, just a week and I will return and
we can have our own celebration afterwards. She said.
It was this gruelling week with that despicable person that
changed how I felt about Princess Natalia forever. He was so
filthy; as soon as she was out the door his eyes were immediately
stuck on me. She had never left me alone with him before, I
didnt know if she really trusted him for that or if he was just
her last, and cheapest, resource for a baby-sitter. Barely 10

years old, I couldnt be left at home for a week by myself, no

one would be able to feed me or look after me. Even still, that
probably wouldve still been the better option. She had left
early in the morning, kissing me on the forehead, Be good honey,
I dont want to come back and hear from Uncle Charlie you were
being a brat. And she was gone.
After saying his own good-byes to her, which included a
fierce ass grab and licking the side of her face as I watched
from behind a nearby wall, I quickly turned around to the kitchen
to prepare a peanut butter and jelly toast. My favourite was
blueberry jam, but she stopped buying it because Charlie likes
cherry jam and we can only afford to buy one kind. So I placed
the bread in the toaster, reaching for the jam on the shelf he
came up from behind me abruptly, grabbed me by the waist and
lifted me up towards the jam. Startled and cringing by his quick
unsuspected motion, I dropped the jar on the counter and it
rolled and smashed onto the floor. S-sorry Uncle Charlie, I
didnt know you were behind me. I said, disgusted that he came
into physical contact with me.
Its alright sweetie pie, didnt mean to start ya, he said
with a sick smile, you dont have to call me Uncle Charlie, you
can just call me Charlie. Putting me down and stepping back, he
noticed the jar was broken. Awww honey, you know what you just
gone and did dontcha? We only have one kinda jam round here;
you broke it, and it just so happens to be my favourite kind. He
said, as if he didnt already know how my mother got it
specifically for him. Yer definitely gonna have to owe me one
for that, darlin.
Sorry Uncl- I mean Charlie, Ill clean it up right away. I
didnt want to upset him; I saw how he got rough with my mother.
He never hit me as much as her though he did squeeze my wrists
really tight at times when I did piss him off, and with my mother
absent, I didnt want him to hurt me freely. My mother was much
stronger than me. When I turned around to get some paper towel to
pick up the glass shards, he started stroking my hair behind me.
You really look just like your momma you know. Only your
hair curls down and hers goes straight down, like dark curtains.
I like the curls better; they really bring out the beauty in yer
face, they make you look exotic. He said while stroking my hair

and breathing his vile breath into my ear. I suddenly felt like
taking a very long shower to get the dirt off.
Um... thanks Charlie, now if youll let me just-I said
trying to get him to leave me alone.
Now, theres no rush darlin, we have a whole week to
ourselves. We can take our time and enjoy ourselves, he said
chuckling.
Every moment speaking to him was disturbing, this man was
very twisted, and I really couldnt see why my mother liked him.
He always stunk horribly and constantly had people coming in and
out of the house, people that looked just as repulsive as he. I
didnt know who they were or what their relation to him was, but
sometimes when some strangers would come to visit, my mother
would send me to my room, and peering through the crack of the
door Id seen my mother sniffing through a tube something off of
the coffee table while the guests would be laying back in their
seat with glazed eyes.
Sure thing, I said, but I still have to get this mess out
of the way, the glass could cut someone.
He eventually got distracted by something, muttered under
his breath and wandered off to the living room, leaving me to
clean up the mess. It was one of very few times I was actually
feeling ecstatic to clean a mess. I hated cleaning, but I hated
him much much more.

Chapter One

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes; all I saw was a

blank white ceiling. Well, it wasnt entirely blank; it did have
those interesting swirling shapes on it. I often wake up
wondering why I did in the first place. Why bother waking up when
today is the same as yesterday and tomorrow will be the exact
same as today? I guess when you wake up asking that question,
thats when you realize youve lost all dreaming to senseless

repetition, lost all ambition to useless persistence. Or maybe I

just ask too many dumb questions, either way, today I woke up
again to a yesterday that never ends, and I put on a pot of
coffee. I never thought Id ever need coffee since I always had
so much damn energy, but age gets the best of us, definitely no
escaping it. I feel so old though Im only 21, soon to be 22, but
really whats the point in keeping count anymore? All it does is
just make you realize how miserably long your pointless existence
really is. All it does is make you acknowledge your mortality and
fear the end all the more, turning each birthday into a slow
elongated countdown to the end. It is way too early in the
morning to be thinking about this crap, why isnt this coffee
ready yet?
Every night I have the same dream, though I never really
remember what it is about I can only assume its about Blake, if
its true you dream of the last thing you think about. At the
club, all of those pompous arrogant bikers ogle me with their
lusty eyes assuming Im just as easy as Claudia, but I try to
keep to myself for the most part. I think thats why he noticed
me in the first place, Im not like the other girls, and hes not
like the other bikers. Blakes story is much like mine, his
father was Blair Donatti, a hit man for the Mafia on the North
Western side of the city. They own that area and like to call it
Bliss, God only knows why, since its anything but blissful.
They make their riches through crime, typical mob stuff like loan
sharking, drug dealing and casinos. Well theres really only one
casino in the little city that I like to call Solitude. The
Casino is a huge complex, called Fallen Angels, its divided into
two subsections one side is the casino, run by the mob, and the
other is the strip joint run by the bikers. Blake is sorta caught
in between these two gangs because of his parents. The bikers are
called Odins Vikings; they like to keep the whole Nordic theme
going. The leader of the gang is Jacob Odin Jameson, his sister
Sherry was Blakes mom. Though she had blonde hair and blue eyes,
Blake looks more like his father, tall and handsome with
chiselled facial features, deep blue eyes and dark brown hair.
Just thinking about him gets me weak in the knees, but thats my
little secret. Anyways, his parents had a very messy love life,
though Im sure at one point it was just like a fairytale too.
Love always starts that way, but never really ends the way people
would hope. As far as I know, his mother was into drugs like

mine, probably because they were so easy to obtain from the

bikers acquiring it and dishing it out so much. In any case, she
got them, and managed to fall in love with Blair who was abusive
to her. He beat her up real bad one time and, that being the last
straw, Odin saw to it that he didnt live long enough to see his
34th birthday. His countdown was shorter than others. Two years
after Blairs untimely death, Sherry was devastated and turned
heavily to drugs feeling helpless that she couldnt do anything
for Blair since it was her own brother that killed him, and her
brother just so happened to be leader. Eventually it was the
drugs which brought about her untimely demise at the young age of
30. With no one to look after him, Odin put Papa Richards in
charge of raising Blake who at the time was only 12. Odin already
had two sons of his own to worry about and since Papa Richards
was like a father to everyone in the club, he was the best to do
the job. I think Papa Richards did well, hes very loving despite
the fact hes a big, burly, traditional, old biker dude. Anyways,
now that this coffee is finally ready, I can start my day.
Working late hours on the poles, I get home real late, so my
schedule is the reverse of everyone else in the world. But it
doesnt bother me much since Blakes schedule is in sync with
mine. Right now its 3:21 pm, he should be coming here any minute
now, he said he would and he usually keeps his word. Sometimes I
fear our fairytale will end horribly just like they usually do,
Im afraid hell somehow one day realize he actually loves
Claudia and will leave me. Or maybe hes already been seeing her
and thats why he wanted to keep our romance quiet? Hearing a
soft rapping at the door, I shook myself back to reality quickly
enough to open the door and let him in.
...
Every time I come to this place I get a very uneasy feeling
for some inexplicable reason. It could be because its near Club
47 territory, or it could be because its right near a brothel
and a meth lab. But it is at 10th and Broad way, which isnt too
far from Viking territory, not far from my house in the
Labyrinth either. Birdie tells me I have nothing to worry about,
and that I shouldnt worry about it, but I cant help my instinct
to protect her. To be honest, I dont even like her working in
the strip club either, thats definitely no place for a woman

like her; although I wouldnt have even met her if it wasnt for
her working there. Really, shes utterly beautiful and her
intelligence is limitless, she belongs in a university, studying
to become a doctor or a lawyer. Dancing on poles completely naked
at a strip club is a bad scene for her, shes like an angel. The
moment I saw her walk in the place, only 17 at the time, she
stood out even in youth. I was astounded and immediately got Big
Momma Beth to give me the details about her situation. She told
me that this young girl left her abusive step father because he
tried to rape her, I was shocked. Beth said his names Charlie,
that he was a useless petty drug dealer who lived on the east
side of the ghetto, thats Club 47 territory, but he wasnt one
of them. Slowly, I got to know her through Big Momma and I grew
fond of her, it could be because we suffered the same parentless
tragedy. Either way, I wanted to protect her, protect her
innocence from the corruption of the world. I was happy that fat
fuck didnt have his way with her, she was too young to be
suffering like that, although he did still to an extent and I
know it scarred her.
Slowly she became one of the family with Claudia, Jesse and
the other girls teaching her how to work the poles, she soon
became a fan favourite particularly for her exotic looks. She
really helped the strip club grow and it turned into the most
popular one in the city. Out of all four strip clubs in the city,
Fallen Angels Casino had become the liveliest, especially with
the help of the Casino bringing in the gamblers. My cousin Joey
took a liking to her too, but she always refused every mob goon
and biker that made any advances on her, which is why it took me
nearly three years to even speak to her. I didnt want to give
her the wrong idea, make her label me the same as the other guys.
Not to mention the fact she was underage. Being Odins left hand,
it wasnt hard for me at all to get any of the girls, Claudia is
the easiest of them all, Stacy is new so I never bothered, and
Naomi and the other girls always tried to flirt with me. But
after a while, it got very tired, I got very lonely. Despite all
these beautiful women surrounding me, I was losing interest in
women altogether. Not that I was switching sides or anything, as
if seeing so many tits everyday was making me turn the other way,
I was just getting bored at the simplicity of it all. The guys
started teasing me after she came in, I was very secretive of my
infatuation with her so they never knew I had my eyes on her at

all. Youre turning to the dark side, Marco Laconi would joke,
that was before he died of course. His best friend Shane Nizzola
would always chime in, How can you turn into a fairy when youre
surrounded by all this pussy? Theyd laugh their asses off, but
really I got the last laugh. They all wanted a piece of Birdie
too, but she only wanted me. Just like I noticed her, she noticed
me, and after we got together she admitted asking Big Momma about
me too. She called Big Momma our Big Fairy God Momma, she loved
fairytales a lot, I can kind of see why since shes a girl. I
personally never watched the Little Mermaid or anything like
that. Shes too cute and childishly innocent; Im worried about
her because she lives in a place that is too dangerous for
someone like her, especially being alone and getting home so
late.
Walking up the steps to her loft, I try to come as often as
I can so I can be there to protect her. She thinks its just
because I want to see her, and Of course it is true, but its
also to be her bodyguard while at the same time being her lover.
After knocking on the door, I heard her voice, Coming! She said
happily, and swung the door wide open giving her enough room to
pounce on me.
Im so glad youre big and strong, otherwise youd topple
over! she giggled like a little girl. It made me tremendously
happy seeing that I could make her happy. When she first came in
she was dark and broken, very solemn and reserved; I could tell
she didnt trust anybody and felt very alone. I was immediately
drawn to those characteristics in her, determined to get to know
the true character behind her shielding persona.
Dont worry love, I said reassuringly, youll never fall,
not while Im around thats for sure. Looking in my eyes, I
could almost see her heart melt right before me.
Blake... youre too sweet, I really dont know what to say
to you sometimes. You really catch me off guard. She said with a
beaming smile. Now come in, its much more comfortable holding
me in bed. In truth, shes the one that catches me off guard,
after that I was blushing, and I never blush. Closing the door
behind me she embraced me again looking closely in my eyes. Kiss
me, She demanded and naturally, I complied.

...
I had to get out of there somehow. I was desperate to run
away, but I knew that if I didnt plan properly, if I was
reckless, things could end up far worse than they already were. I
couldnt stay in that house any longer, but I couldnt just go
anywhere. I needed a plan. I needed income. I needed to be
independent, for my own sake. I was still young, but I realized
my life was crashing down into the abyss. Though, what I failed
to realize in my nave mind was that my world was already
crashing from the moment it began.
It was the morning of Day Two. I was counting each day as if
I was serving a life sentence in a Siberian gulag, or worse,
Guantanamo Bay, carving each tally line with dedication into the
wall. I didnt want to get out of bed, I felt as if the blankets
cocooning my tiny body would create a magic barrier to protect me
from the vile monster lurking outside my door THUD, THUD!
I knew it was time to wake up from that sound.
Breakfast! Charlie yelled through the door before clomping
down the hall with his goofy feet. I had to admit, though, I was
surprised he actually prepared food for me. Whenever my mother
was home, he would whine like a big ugly baby about how long it
was taking her to cook and how its a womans duty to make sure
dinner is made right on time. Is it possible I misjudged him at
least a little?
I quickly threw on my slippers, brushed my teeth and headed
down the stairs to see what disappointing meal he had whipped up.
I imagined it must be something like dry oatmeal or cereal with
water in it. I was actually really curious to see what it was,
maybe I could get a good laugh out of this at least.
When I walked into the kitchen I was started suddenly. He
was just standing there in the middle of the kitchen, arms
crossed while leaning against the counter, with this angry look
on his face. The counter tops looked clean and unworked, nothing
was prepared.
You sure know how to take yer sweet time, just like yer ma.
Now, like I said before, its breakfast time and Im hungry. Yer
getting older now so get to cookin! I knew he would surprise

me, and funny enough, I didnt expect it to be in such a way. Now

Im going to renege all those points I gave him a moment ago.
I already knew how to cook, I learned a long time ago, and
this couldnt be so bad. Or so I thought.
Sure, no problem, I love cooking! I replied. My voice
mustve been too chipper for him, either that or he woke up on
the wrong side of the bed. My response set him off into a fit.
What did you say? he asked obnoxiously and taking an
abrupt step forward. Its as though it seemed he enjoyed striking
terror in people. Particularly my mother, particularly me. I
dont remember askin you a question. Do it! he screamed in my
face. I could feel the force of his stank breath in my face. My
imagination began wandering into the realm of bacteria that
inhabited the craters of his rotting teeth. I knew that if I
recoiled in any way it would invite him to smack me so I just
stood there and kept my mouth shut. I walked towards the
cupboards and then he
Let me help you up there kiddo! he said suddenly grabbing
underneath my arms and lifting me to the top of the cupboard. His
hands were large compared to my little torso, they were touching
the sides of my breasts. My mom had promised to get me a training
bra because I was developing really quickly. But that was years
ago. Now my breasts were actually getting big and the fact that
his hands were the first hands to ever grope my bosom was a
really disturbing thought. I quickly grabbed the pancake mix and
syrup from the cupboard so he would just put me down. As I was
lowered, somehow he was in a fit again.
I dont get a thank you? You ought to be appreciative of
the things I do for you, girl! he said keeping his hands around
me. I didnt know what to say. I didnt know what to do. I just
wanted him to leave me alone. I didnt even mind having to
prepare food for him, I just wanted him to leave me alone. Id
quietly comply, and happily so, why did he have to insist on
tormenting me?
Th-thank you Charlie! Ever so much for being helpful and
kind! I said with a smile and extra enthusiasm.

Are you back talkin me, kid? he asked. Nothing ever

seemed to please him, its as if he absolutely wanted to be
miserable and share.
No, no, Im being the most honest I have ever been in my
life! I kept urging, I just wanted him to drop it and leave me
be. Just leave me be please.
You, honest? You aint never been honest in yer life,
kiddo. Yer lying to me right now! he said, as he swung his arm
up abruptly. I couldnt fight back a flinch and recoiled, I
really wasnt too keen on getting smacked up. After all, it was
only Day Two. Heh heh heh, Im just pullin your leg, girlie. It
was all in good fun! How could I possibly be angry at such a
sweet little face? Look at you, just like your mother. After
this, I peeked through my hands covering my face. I felt like
throwing up. There was just an odd feeling in the air. He was
staring at me, eyes wandering up and down, with a slant grin on
his face. His eyes looked empty. He looked like death.