The morning after I lost my innocence, I sat in the bathroom crying. My violated body was curled in a ball in the corner. Sobs ripped through my chest until my throat went raw and my eyes would no longer produce tears. I was left to whimper in self pity.

Everything I had ever know had been torn from my life. Francis took my family, life, innocence, and virginity. I was no longer pure and had no way of getting my innocence back.  My body was filthy; no better than trash. It used to be shed in a bright light of purity, until I was dragged into the dark to suffer.

Francis broke me. 

I was like a delicate glass dove, sitting pretty in his filthy hands. Instead of putting me on a shelf for others to see, he dropped me. I depended on his will to keep me whole, but his will was no stronger than my small glass body. The second he released me from his hands, I plummeted to the ground. All I could do was close my eyes and try to ignore what he had done to me. Until I hit the floor. Pieces of my glass body shattered in every direction, never to be the same again.

That day I spent the every waking moment in the bathroom. My sickened body sent me to the toilet to  throw up many times, to the point that I just curled up next to it. I still don't know how many long hours were spend hugging the cold, porcelain toilet in hope I was just having a nightmare.

Francis knocked on the door several times that day, trying to comfort me but I would have none of it. At one point, his pathetic pleas to open the door drove me into the shower. The water swept his voice away, and I was left in silence once again.

Scalding hot water burned my skin as it raced down my sides, but I didn't care. I could barely feel the pain through my emotional breakdown. Somehow my eyes worked up more tears to joint coursing burning water.

For an eternity, it seemed, I stood there, hugging myself. When my mind tired itself out, my subconscious went into action. I picked up a bar of soap and began to cleanse my violated body; washing off Francis's lingering fingers from my skin, but not my mind. 

Despite all efforts, I couldn't help but remember how his hands trailed up and down my body. My eyes were closed the entire time, but it didn't make it hurt any less. 

When Olivia came home the next day, I couldn't help but keep my distance. Just looking at her made me think of her disgusting father. Although, I couldn't help but notice her strange behavior. She was elusive and quiet, always keeping her eyes on the ground. I knew this was weird, but I just couldn't seem to care at the moment. She was the daughter of the man who had just violated me, and I couldn't keep my anger from finding her. 

Eventually, though, I swallowed my pride and made my way to her room to talk, but she was still quiet. I repeatedly asked her what was wrong, but she claimed it was nothing. The only words that she said still rung through my head.

"Haitlin-" she paused, "what is your family like?"

This question came off weird to me. She had been gone two days and had questions about me? 

"Well, I guess you could say it was nice. I had a mom and dad who loved each other very much. I also had a brother named Gregory, who would always keep me out of trouble. Why?" 

My family; they were the only reason I pulled through that week. If it wasn't for them then I might have ended my life, because barely anything was worth living through this hell. 

"W-why?" I managed to ask through my wobbly voice.

She wouldn't make eye contact with me, but I knew she heard me.

"What are you to me?" she asked.

At first, I was confused by the question. Why was she asking all these strange questions?

"How do you mean?" I voiced my question.

"Like, who are you to me? You're not my mom or my sister; so who are you to me?" she repeated.

I still struggle with this question. I mean, how do I explain this situation to a five year old? You can't just say 'oh well I am someone your dad kidnapped to help look after you and complete your family'. No, it doesn't work like that.

"I honestly don't know honey," I answered.

She went silent after that, and didn't respond for the rest of the day. In the morning, she was back to her happy-go-lucky self, but I still found her staring at blank walls. I decided to ignore when this happen, because it simply wasn't my place.

The rest of that week dragged on. Everyday I tried avoiding Francis but that didn't really work when the only other person in the house was a five year. So most of the time I ended up being pulled into Francis's lap to watch the fire or read a book. 

Every time his fingers touched my body, I cringed in fear. So badly I wanted to run away, but I was emotionally unstable and would make bad choices. Plus I was too scared to try anything. What he did to me was worse than any beating he could have ever gave me. 

He still kissed me, though, after that dark day. He hadn't dared try touching me like that again, but he still let his fingers wander near the hem of my shirts. Sometimes I protested, but most of the time I just sat there staring into the fire. The fire was my only escape from this cold man.

Sometimes while I was imprisoned in his arms, I wondered why I still dealt with all of this. He took the last thing I had from me, and there was no way to get it back. So why did I need to continue living on this depressing life, surely death would be a great escape. 

Yet, I never acted upon those thoughts. In the fire I would always see the faces of my family; urging me to go on. If I put up with this sick world, then maybe one day I could return to my old life. I could see my brother, mother, and father; and that is what was worth living for. 

Three and a half weeks had past since the first time I met Francis. It is hard to believe I had already been in that hell hole for almost a month. It is even harder to believe that I spent my eighteenth birthday there.

I had woken up to an empty bed; a small pleasure that I rarely got to enjoy. Lazily, I removed myself from the bed, but not before I gave myself some well needed extra rest. I decided since it was my eighteenth birthday that I would treat myself, and not deal with Francis's tactics for this one day. It was my day, and no one else's.

After a shower, I continued my regular routine, finishing with brushing my teeth. After that one night, I had fallen into routine and schedules. Yes, I had lost myself, but how was I supposed to pick up my shattered pieces? 

Somewhere along the line, I just stopped caring. Of course I wanted to escape and go home, but everyday brought my mood down further. It was like a dark cloud had descended into my mind, and fogged up my reasoning and thoughts. 

Some times I sat there wondering who I was. My two lives were clashing and it was getting hard to remember what was an act. I didn't want to give up my old life, but as time went on I feared I would lose it all. What would happen if I didn't get rescued? When was a good time to give up on my old life?

I couldn't think those thoughts though. It had only been three and a half weeks, even though it felt like years. People would still be looking for me, and hopefully on the track to finding me. Maybe they were close enough by to see the smoke from the chimney. 

If it was possible that I could still be found or escape, then I could not give up. I could not forget who I was; who I am. If I forget then I fail and will be forever condemned to this house and Francis. Forever is a long time, and who knows what Francis could do with an eternity.

Shaking my head, I realized I was lost in my thoughts. I needed to get downstairs and have the worst birthday ever. 

With my favorite outfit of a light pink blouse and dark jeans on, I left the bathroom to head to my next task; breakfast. Apparently, even Olivia was up because I heard her laugh drift from the kitchen.

As soon as my foot took its first step in the kitchen, I was swept off my feet and sat on the counter. Francis stood in between my legs and brushed my hair behind my ears, smiling at me with his sickening compassion.

"Good Morning birthday girl," he said gently against my lips.

"Morning," I replied.

He pulled me down from the counter and sat me in my regular seat. In front of me he placed a large plate of French toast, with powdered sugar, adorned with all different types of berries. To the side he included three sausages and a glass of orange juice.

The breakfast did look simply stunning, and I could not wait to take my first bite. This would probably be the only thing I ate for the next few day. I still had the habit of skipping several meals; I think I even lost more weight. 

"Happy birthday," Olivia said cheerfully.

"Thank you," I smiled and bopped her nose with my finger. 

As I swallowed another bite, I began to wonder how they knew it was my birthday. I hadn't told them, had I? Did I tell Olivia without realizing it? Maybe I was talking in my sleep. I know I did that sometimes, especially when I had nightmare and awoke screaming. In times like that Francis would sing to me until I slipped back into an unsound sleep.

"Haitlin, come up to my room, I want to give you your present!" Olivia squealed after breakfast was finished.

"Okay," I answered, letting her pull me up to her room.

Once inside, she instructed me to sit on her bead and close my eyes. I obliged, no questions asked. 

"Open them!" she said excitedly.

I did as she instructed and found a small pink box being shoved in my face. 

"Thank you," I told her as I took it from her small hands.

Opening the lid reveled a necklace hidden beneath tissue paper. The pendant of the necklace was a pink rock with white swirls running through it. It was in the shape of a delicate dragonfly wing. The chain was simply a small black rope that was looped through a hole that was drilled into the wing.

"Oh wow. This is beautiful Olivia," I said in awe. "Where did you get it?"

"I got it when I was out with Uncle Ian. I hope you like it," she smiled.

"I love it," I said honestly. 

I untied the knotted end and slipped it around my neck. I quickly re-knotted the ties so that it wouldn't fall off; I never wanted to lose it. It was simply like nothing I had ever seen before, and it amazed me. 

I pulled Olivia into a hug and she laughed happily. I would have been content to spend my birthday like that, but a soft knock came from the door.

"Haitlin, can I see you downstairs?" Francis asked, interrupting our fun.

"Yes," I replied.

Letting go of Olivia, I followed Francis downstairs; I have to admit I was sort of nervous. He had a tendency to be creepy, and I wouldn't put it past him to do something disturbing to pronounce his love for me on my birthday. Yet, I just followed him down the stairs like an obedient dog following its owner.

He instructed me sit on one of the couches, and I did as he told. Maybe it was the fear, but I tried not upsetting him now that I knew what he was able to do. He scooted in next to me, so that our legs were touching. I couldn't help but lean away a bit, still traumatized by his touch.

"I wanted to give you your birthday present," he whispered into my ear. "I couldn't manage to buy a puppy like you wanted, but I promise I will get you one for Christmas," he into my eyes for approval.

"Oh no, you don't have to," I replied breathlessly.

"No, I have to keep my promise. If I didn't, then what would my word be worth? Nothing."

"O-okay," I answered as I shrunk into myself

"So I got you this instead."

He pulled out a small black box from his pocket; the kind of box for a ring. My palms instantly began to sweat as I feared the worse. Before I could protest, he opened the box to reveal a Claddagh ring. 

All my fears instantly were swept away with the sight of this ring, but maybe I should have been a little more cautious. It was only a Claddagh ring, nothing like an engagement ring. The band of the ring was designed to look like two hands coming together to hold the light blue gem between them. The ring itself was truly stunning.

Basically, depending on how you position the ring, it shows your relationship status. If it is on your right hand then you are either single or in a relationship. It the gem points away then you are single and if it points toward you then you are taken. If it is on your left hand and pointed away, then it shows you are engaged, or pointed inwards then it shows you are married.

My thoughts instantly stopped again, and then went into hyper drive. Why would he get one of these? How would he position it? Would he just call me his girlfriend or does he know nothing of the ring? Could he be ignorant to what it meant? 

My concerns were soon to be answered as he reached over and lid the ring on my left hand; facing outwards. 

"But Francis, this means-" I stopped mid-sentence, afraid to go on.

No. He was just ignorant, it meant nothing... right?

"Yes," he looked deeply into my eyes, "it means engaged."

My eyes went wide as my nightmare came true. Francis got down on one knee and asked the fatal question.

"Will you do the honor of becoming my wife?"

"I-" I paused, not knowing what to say.

The shock of this event made my hand fly to my mouth, to keep my from gasping in horror. What was happening? Did he seriously just propose? He couldn't be serious could he? How would he even get us married? I didn't consent to any of this.

My eyes widened and I was at a lose for words. Francis looked up at me expectantly with 'love' in his eyes. A single tear slip down my face; a traitor.

"Sugar, it's okay. I love you so much," Francis whispered as he stood up.

He pulled me into a warm hug that lasted for many moments. Then he tipped my chin up and crashed his lips against mine.  His rough kisses snapped me from my frightened state. This was not going to happen. I wouldn't allow it. 

Right as I was about to bite down on his tongue to make him back off, Olivia came skipping down the stairs. She stopped in her place when she saw us and a smile lit up on her face.

"She said yes?" she asked Francis.

He had stopped kissing me as soon as Olivia appeared, but wouldn't tear his eyes away from my own. 

"She said yes," he replied.

Olivia squealed and ran over to us. Francis pulled her up to sit on his side where she decided to reach over and hug me. Francis lightly placed a kiss on my lips before joining this 'family' hug.

All I could help but think was: when the hell did I say yes?