I had always dreamed of a life, a fairytale life, one filled with nothing but happiness.

I'd have my own real-life version of a prince, I'd plant flowers in our garden, I'd feel nothing but happiness.

But unfortunately, it's just a dream, as most things are. 

I winced at the sound of my dads' glass shattering against the wall, although it wasn't that unfamiliar. He slurred, "You're a fucking disappointment, Alissa!"

I wanted to defend myself, but to my dad, it was considered disrespect. I bit my tongue, along with my bottom lip, which I wanted to curse at for daring to tremble. A nightmare, that's what this was, a nightmare of a life that was caused but nobody other than my own father. 

He was going on one of his rants about how much he hates me which he does every time he drinks, which is almost every day. Alcohol is the only thing I ever see him consume, although I don't see him much, since I lock myself away in my room. 

And in that room that I lock myself in, I look outside and wonder if there's even a man out there for me at all. 

He scoffed, "I wish I could kill you. The world would be better off."

I just nodded. The words my dad says to me no longer affect me as much as they used to. He always tries to break me, make me cry, destroy my backbone. But I never let him see me cry. Even if I collapse onto the shower floor the moment I get to my room. I don't like giving him that satisfaction, I know this is abuse, I know this isn't love.

Maybe there truly is nobody out there that could love me. 

I glanced at the clock above the living room TV, turning my head. My plans start in 30 minutes, so I have to get ready now. As I pushed myself off of the couch and stood to my full height, my dad chuckled, "Yea. Go whore yourself out at a club like usual."

I walked past him, taking a deep breath. Don't let him see you cry.

He grabbed onto my wrist tightly, preventing me from walking. I said softly, trying not to anger him, "Dad. I have to go-"

He threw his fist into my face, a throbbing pain coming from my lip as I stumbled back a few steps. Once I regained my balance, I tapped my lip slightly, blood covering my fingers once I did so. He spat, "Bring me home some fucking whiskey, or else you'll be sleeping in the backyard."

That was always the deal. I could only leave the house, as long as I brought him back alcohol.

This isn't love, and this isn't living. But it's all I've ever known. 

He turns after, his lack of balance showing as he retreats back to his bedroom. He walked away, as if nothing had happened, as if his actions were deemed normal. He never felt guilty about anything he ever did or said to me. 

Wiping my bleeding lip with my thumb, I walked upstairs to my room, refusing to let the uncontrollable alter my mood. I wish I could go to college, but I probably won't be able to for a few years with how much money I make. I want to escape, I want out, I want to see what there is to life that I haven't gotten to experience. 

I'm 21 right now, but my birthday is very close. My dad makes it so I don't have that many friends, but I'm going to find something to do on it anyways. I always look forward to my birthday, even if I'm alone in my room during it with my door locked and my father shouting from down below. 

I walked into the bathroom, got some toilet paper, and wiped the blood off of my lip. I pulled my lip down, looking at the damage my dad did. I avoid my reflection in the mirror, because I knew that if I let myself look, I'd stare into my eyes. 

It's okay. I can handle it. Temporary, that's what I tell myself this is. 

I covered my lips with pink-tinted lip gloss to try and hide the mark. 

I  stare at my reflection for a while. The second my eyes locked on myself, I couldn't look away. The one thing I always hated most about myself was my eyes. I got all of my mom's facial features and blonde hair, but I got my dad's green eyes. And no matter how much I hated it, I always saw him when I looked at myself. I could see every name he has called me, every disgusting look he has given me over merely existing. 

I shook my head, pushing my palms against the door and exiting. Snap out of it, Alissa. Think of things that make you happy. 

Flowers. I smile while I think about them. Locked in this house my entire life, I've become a bit of a hopeless romantic, wondering what it would be like to receive flowers from a boy that looked at me as if I were special. 

I sat down at my vanity, wrapping my hair around my curling iron. My phone buzzed in front of me with a call from Seraphina, my only friend. I pressed the pick-up button and put it on speaker while continuing to curl my hair, "I'm almost ready, Sera! I should be ready in 15."

I speak as if nothing had just happened with my father. I'd never want anybody to worry about me.

"Yeah, I might be picking you up a little later than that," she says and then giggles. "About 30 minutes?"

I shut my eyes. I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. 

I heard a guy's voice faintly in the background, making me pause what I was doing. When I realized who it was, I question angrily, "Are you with Dylan?"

She replied in a high-pitched voice, "Um....no?"

"The one and fucking only!" Dylan yelled in the background, making Sera shush him. Dylan is a piece of shit, not the kind of man I'd ever want to be with, although I had never been with one before. 

"Sera, why the hell are you with him again? He treats you terribly," I say bluntly, not caring that he could hear me. 

"That's debatable," Dylan replied. 

"I was just hanging out with him for a bit, but in 30, I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" she said while walking away from Dylan so I could no longer hear him. I didn't bother to say anything more, since I knew I'd just get angry. 

I nodded, "Okay. Text me once you're outside."

I hung up, finishing curling my hair and putting on a black dress. I stared at myself in the mirror, looking myself up and down. It's hard to ever think that you look good when you're told every day that you aren't. 

A loud gunshot from downstairs made me jump, and my heart started to race. I began to walk toward my bedroom door when I heard three more, making a lump form in my throat and my stomach drop. 

I grabbed my phone to call 911 when I heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. I froze, hearing them walk closer and closer to my room, and I jumped into my closet. My heartbeat felt like it was in my ears, and my skin felt cold. Am I going to die? Has my Dad finally reached his limit with me, would my own family really try and kill me?

"Alissa?" my dad whispers as he enters my room and looks around. "Alissa, come on, we've got to go."

My eyebrows lowered. I opened my closet slowly and stepped out while asking, "Dad? What's going on?"

He gripped onto my upper arm tightly, dragging me out of my room with him. I whispered again, "Dad?"

"Shut the fuck up," he spat at me.

I swallowed my words as he continued to pull me downstairs. I looked around, trying to see where the gunshots were from. Puke rose in my throat seeing a dead body on my living room floor with a pool of blood underneath them. 

My dad dragged me outside, the spring air hitting my skin and snapping me back into reality. He ordered, "Get in the car."

I did as I was told, not wanting to piss him further off. He got into the driver's side and sped out of the driveway and down the road so quickly that I gripped onto my seat. He swerved slightly since he was intoxicated, so I offered, "Dad if you pull over, I can-"

"Why do you never learn to shut the fuck up!" he yelled, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel. 

I swallowed. I asked quietly in fear of being too loud, "What just happened?"

"Something that I'll fucking deal with, but you can't be coming with me. So you're going to be staying with somebody who owes me a favor."

"You can just take me to Sera's house," I spoke softly but earned a headshake in response. 

Everything I said just got shot down, so I remained quiet. He wouldn't tell me what happened; he wouldn't tell me who his friend was, he just wouldn't tell me anything. I was haunted by the image of a person he killed while we drove.

We turned onto a long road with one house at the end. But as we drove closer and closer, I had to fight my jaw from dropping. It was the biggest house I've ever seen in my life, with thick, lush grass covering the front yard and a beautiful exterior. The flowers in the garden, that's what I noticed first. They were beautiful. 

A black gate sat in front of it, but a man opened it for us as we got closer. My dad parked and turned to look at me, "Get out. I'll be back in a few weeks to get you."

"A few weeks?" I asked in disbelief. 

"Yes. Now get out," he doesn't elaborate further. 

His tone felt sort of threatening, so I got out. As soon as I did he drove away, leaving me to stand and stare at the house. The sound of crickets filled the air and I found myself standing there, not wanting to move.

The man who opened the gate called out sarcastically, "Hey, I don't know if you're blind or something but I opened the gate for you!"

I took a deep breath, walking forwards through the gate. He approached me, looking to be in his mid-20s. His skin was slightly tanned, and his eyes and hair were brown. He smiled at me, "You must be Alissa. I'm Christian, the sexiest man here."

My eyebrows went up and he quickly continued, "Don't tell Miles I said that."

"Who's Miles?" I asked as he started to walk towards the front door with me.

He looked at me, confused, as if I just asked the stupidest question ever. He explained, "Miles is who lives here. Well, I live here too, but Miles actually owns the house. Your dad said you'd be here for a couple of weeks?"

"I guess so," I shrugged, letting out an amused scoff. "I don't really know what's happening."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Miles can answer all of your questions," he told me as we approached the front door.

Christian opened the door, a beautiful chandelier being the first thing my eyes went to. I looked around in awe, never seeing something so beautiful before.

Christian noticed this and nodded with a smirk, "Cool, right? Miles is fucking loaded."

"What's he do?" I asked, making him look confused again.

He stared me up and down, "Huh. You really don't know anything about this shit?"

"No, I don't," I replied truthfully.

He nodded, "I'll go introduce you to Miles. He can explain it to you."

I followed Christian down a long hallway, our footsteps echoing against the walls. Once we were in front of the shut door, he knocked, waiting a few seconds before opening the door. I followed him inside as Christian spoke, "His daughter is here."

My eyes moved to a man who looked like pure darkness. He sat at a desk covered in papers, his hair and eyes being the same shade of black. His face was emotionless - not reciprocating the smile that I gave him. He stood up to his full height, making the lamp hit his eye for a moment. I thought in the light that I'd see his eyes were really brown, but they remained black. 

He walked over to us, looking me up and down. He was taller than me so I had to look up at him, but he didn't meet my gaze again. He turned to Christian and said, "Show her to her room. And make sure she won't be bothering me."

His voice was deep and also had no emotion to it. It sent a chill down my spine, but I crossed my arms to keep it from showing. I spoke softly to him, "I'm Alissa. How do you know my dad?"

His dark eyes moved back to meet mine, making me feel intimidated. His facial features were sharp and symmetrical, one strand of his black hair falling onto his forehead. He didn't respond to me and looked back at Christian, "She's bothering me already."

My jaw dropped slightly. How rude. 

"Usually when people meet they are supposed to be nice to each other," I told him.

He asked me, "Does it look like I fucking care?"

And he got even ruder.

Christian put his hand on my shoulder and told me, "I'll show you to your room, Alissa."

Judging by how Christian wasn't affected by Miles' words at all, I assume that behavior is usual for him. 

He guided me out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Once we were further down the hallway I whispered to him, "He's not very friendly."

"No, he isn't. It'll be easier if you just avoid and ignore him until your dad comes back to get you," he whispered back. Comes back, the words remind me I'm not free from him forever. 

He leads me upstairs, showing me to a beautiful white and grey room. There was a thick rug in the middle, a king-sized bed, and a connecting bathroom. As I looked around Christian smirked, "Pretty sick, right?"

"It's beautiful!" I said while admiring it. 

"Glad you like it. It gets a little boring here, so my room is down the hallway if you ever want a super hot friend to hang out with," he says sarcastically, but I don't think it was a joke.

I sensed that he was about to leave so I said, "Wait. Can you explain to me what's going on, and why I'm here?"

He leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh. He shrugged, "I don't know everything Miles does, I'm just his right-hand man. I guess Miles owed your dad a favor, so he agreed to let you stay here until your dad pays off his debt to the don."

My eyebrows lowered, "What's the don? And why'd he owe him a favor? And why'd my dad kill someone?"

"I don't know why. But this world is sick and twisted, Alissa. The fewer questions you ask, the better," he told me in a serious tone rather than the sarcastic one he had been using.

He left the room, closing the door behind him. I looked around, feeling even more confused than I was before.

What have I been kept in the dark from?

Word Count: 2606