Sweet Girl- Prologue

Let's have a quick chat: A small prologue just to introduce you guys to her situation and perhaps will give you an insight to her motivations and things. The first chapter is a lot longer than this, don't worry, and should be up soon. I wanted to get the finishing touches done.

Thanks for listening. Enjoy.

"Come on," I heard my mother hiss at me, "get up."

I opened my eyes and saw her figure in the doorway with the hallway light illuminating behind her. I was confused and scared.

"Mama?" I asked with a trembling voice.

"Who else would it be? Now get up."

She grabbed my arm painfully and pulled me out of the top bunk of the bed that I shared with my cousin Jackson. I hit my foot on the ladder and started to cry. She shook me violently and hissed at me to shut up otherwise I'll wake up Jackson but it was too late. I saw him sit up, blonde hair all messed up from sleep and rubbing his eyes.

"What's up V?" he asked but then must have seen me sat on the floor holding my bad foot and my mother dragging me across the carpet. He was up and out of bed faster than I could blink and grabbed my free hand and pulled me the other way.

"Let go of her!" he shouted, his teenage boy voice cracking in a way that would have been funny had I not been frightened for my life, "Dad! Dad!"

Mother tried to kick him away but he punched her back. I was still crying and fighting against her as hard as I could but there was only so much that I could do, I was weak and young. My uncle John barged into the room and a full blown argument ensued with Mother shouting at him. He grabbed her hand away from my arm so that she let go. I crawled over to Jackson and he hugged me a bit too tightly. I hid my face in my hands as the shouting escalated.

"-I don't care, John! She is my child and I will do what I want with her!"

"Fuck this," Uncle John sighed and left the room, later I realised that he was calling my dad.

Mother turned slowly to face Jackson and I. I peeked through my hands just in time to see her lunge at us. She grabbed me by the arm and then picked me up roughly with some words from Jackson that made her hit him in the face. I fought hard but it was nothing to her. I looked up and saw my uncle john speaking to my dad.

"Daddy!" I screamed, "Daddy help!"

He turned to look at me with a completely expressionless face. It was so cold that even as a child I understood what was going on. We were leaving and he didn't care. I saw Jackson run down the stairs but before I could say anything I had been thrown in the back of a car with a strict warning that something bad would happen if I misbehaved. I sat and cried in the back seat.

I was 10 years old when we moved into that shitty little apartment in London. She said it was for our own good, for our safety. That my uncle john and my dad would put us in danger if we stayed, she would say this through slurred words. I didn't know what was happening; all I knew was that she had taken me away from the people that I loved and made me feel safe.

I was 11 when she told me that we were moving again. Mother had a rich boyfriend and we were moving in with him. I hated him and he hated me. He would hurt me whether she was there or not. She didn't care. I was put in hospital for the first time in my life with 3 cracked ribs and a broken jaw.

"She tripped down the stairs," Michael said with a sympathetic voice, "poor lamb."

Cut to 2 hours earlier and I was shouting and screaming in his face, spitting at him and trying to hurt him like he hurt me. He threw me against the wall so hard that I felt something pop in my face before howling with pain. He laughed sadistically as he picked me up from the ground and flung me down the stone stairs of his London townhouse.

I was 12 when I dyed my hair and changed my name. I covered my white-blonde hair with a rich brown hair dye and took to wearing to much makeup for my age. I was shuffled off to a private boarding school in the south of England. it had been completely funded by Michael and Mother didn't care that her little girl was being shipped off.

"I have paid for your whole secondary education," Michael sneered, "you aren't coming back. you can stay there."

I hated it at first. I rebelled, shouted and screamed as hard as I could. I fought back from the strict school rules and isolated myself from everyone. However, when I had to go back to London over the summer and realised what I would be going back too if I got expelled I stopped fighting the system quite so hard. Rebelling was in my nature though and I caused enough trouble to make a scene and get some attention but not enough for expulsion.

I was 14 when I lost my virginity to an older boy. He was 17 and took advantage but I thought it was love. It wasn't romantic or loving, just something to make him feel good. I was just glad of the attention, the replacement of the love I felt I was lacking.

I was 25 when my life changed again.