Hey, a little authors note here, please try not to judge me, as this is my first time writing, and if you have any suggestions as to what I should write next, feel free to comment! I hope you enjoy! -your loving author

Chapter 1. How it all began

Let me tell you something. I never wanted this to be my life. I never wanted this to turn out the way it did. But if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

My family had never had lots of money, and we'd probably have starved to death if it weren't for my father, (f/n). He worked many jobs, all of which seemed to blur together, and we didn't see him frequently. My mother was loving to us, and was always very gentle with me and my sister, (f/n).

My father had always been a collector of antique items, and handy with clocks. When I was around four years old, my father had made a deal with an underground gang. The deal was that he'd sell them whatever valuable items he got his hands on, and in return they'd split the shares and provide protection for us.

The deal went bad when I was about six years old. My father had given his investors an old, intricate music box, that had a small key to open it. Inside the box was a small handle that when turned, played a sweet and light melody. His group had sold the box to a wealthy collector, but when the man took it home, he found the gears to be broken, possibly from the people that sold it to him having dropped it.

The man was, needless to say, outraged. He returned to the group of lowlifes, and demanded his money back. The gang my father had done business with was in fact, a group of young teenagers, now scared for their lives from the mans threats. They sold out my father, blaming their recklessness on him, and he payed the price.

I still remember that night, clear as day. Men in black clothing burst into the house as my father had been in the front room, tinkering with a hand watch. I'd been walking out to see what the commotion was, when I saw the men attacking my father. I watched helplessly as they killed my father, tears welling up in my eyes. They continued down the hall, and I looked up to see someone towering over my father. I knocked over something on the table, and the figured looked up, and farted away.

The men had found my mother, while my sister had been hiding in the closet, and slaughtered her, too. After that day, my sister and I had been shipped off to our uncle, where out lives got no easier.