When I was a little girl, I used to pray that every time the padlock was removed from the outside of my door it was someone coming to take me from hell. "It's ok." I hold my sister tight, feeling the dread wash over me every time I lie to her. It's not going to be ok. It's… never going to be ok.

"Get the fuck on the bed," my father demands.

In the spring when I turned nine, the padlock finally breaks, although it isn't my father on the other side of the door.

"LAPD," a man shouts.

I cling to my sister, knowing she passed away in the middle of the night, but she's all I have. They pry her from my arms despite my protest and cries. I curl up in the corner as I watch them take her from the room. Now I don't have anyone. I sob quietly while the officer's try to coax me from the corner, but I don't trust them. I don't trust any man. "Go away," I scream. It isn't until my fairy stuffed animal is set beside me that I stop my tantrum. I glance over my shoulder to see a police officer behind me. His skin is like mine, but colored differently. I snatch my fairy and hold it close, my eyes trailing up his face.

"I like your fairy."

"No you don't," I frown. "No one likes the fairies."

"Clear the house," someone yells as it startles me.

"It's ok," he tells me, his hand hesitant to touch my back. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"What about my father?"

"We, uh, we had to..." His brow furrows.

"He's gone forever?" When I'm given a nod, I move over to my protector.

He hoists me up, then carries me out of hell.

I peek over his shoulder, knowing I'll never have to see this home again. My eyes are covered as we go into the living room.

"Just while we pass through," he says.

I know it's so I don't see the death.

My mother's screams scare me. Screams, mind you, for my father… not for me or my sister.

Once we're outside, he lets me sit in the front seat of this car. It's the first time I find myself wanting to run back home.

"Smile for me."

I shake my head no at him.

"Aww."

I giggle at his ears. The little twitch they have to them as they pout, too.

"That's better," he says, his thumb sweeping away my tears.

I'm embarrassed when he notices the splotches on my skin. Especially my left hand where it's the worst. I tuck my hand behind my back.

He points at a spot on my arm. "It's called vitiligo. You don't have to be ashamed."

Until him, I've never seen anyone with skin like mine. "The other kids make fun of me."

"That's because they don't understand."

"Do you get made fun of?"

He nods.

My eyes trail to his name badge. I try my best to say his name.

"It's Jakoby," he corrects my horrible attempt. "What's your name?"

As I start to speak, we're interrupted. I don't like how the other men talk to Jakoby. They say nasty things like my father called me and my sister. I wait patiently for my protector to return and give him a smile. When Jakoby says I'm to go with this lady in the car, I shake my head side to side. "I want to stay with you."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Please," I beg. When he puts his police hat on me, I feel my cheeks warm.

"You're brave, alright?"

I give him my fairy in exchange.

He takes it and smiles.

"Bye, Koby."

He winks before closing the door.

"Oz," my boss screams at me, his hand coming down hard on the table.

I snap out of my routine daydream.

"Customers!" His hand violently lurches outward at the table by the door.

"I'm sorry." I hurry over to the table, but I'm not even given a chance to take their order.

"We don't want an orc waitress."

"I'm not an Orc. It's a skin condition called vitiligo-" The couple has heard enough and leaves the diner. I stuff my notepad back in my apron with a sigh. At least I'll be able to return to my daydream.

I've seen Jakoby several times since that day he freed me from hell. One time, I purposely bumped into him on a busy street. He apologized and went on his way. I know it's stupid to be this infatuated with someone I only met once, but there's not a moment of free time that I have that's not spent on him.

The diner doorbell rings.

My boss reminds me a lot of my father. Always touching me and the other waitresses. Always shouting. "Get your ass over to table twelve, now."

"Yes, Sir." I smooth out my apron and walk over to the table. As I start to greet the officers, my entire body freezes. Jakoby!

A/N Thank you for reading, all! I hope everyone is enjoying this so far :)