Authors note: I obviously own nothing except those that I obviously own. I mention the Texas polygamy sect in this, and do not mean to say anything horrible or imply anything about them. I merely got an idea from it and blew it way more out of proportion than the real thing is...at least I'm pretty sure...ok, I'm gonna stop talking before I get in trouble. Here is my drama filled, sad, totally cliche story about totally cliche love. Enjoy:)

P.S. You can review if you want, but Im not gonna be one of those people that freaks out if no one reviews. I write because it is an outlet for my far too imaginative brain.

You all know the Jonas Brothers, right? Of course you do. We've all only been mourning their highly publicized disappearance for the past 6 months right after the highly publicized death of their mom. We all miss their music and their youtube videos and seeing them on Disney Channel every day. But I miss something that the rest of you don't miss. I miss my boyfriend, who was also my fiancée. Kevin and I were planning on marrying secretly the day I turned 18.

Then my mom died, and my dad went crazy. He basically kidnapped me, destroying my cell phone, laptop, and other communication devices that had Kevin's number, so I lost contact with him. The only way I knew what was happening with him was looking at the fan sites at hotel computers. I tried several times to message him, but all my communications were lost in the depths of the millions of other fan mail.

He was looking so sad one day in an interview as he said the usual schpiel that he was single. He looked straight into the camera when he said he was looking for the girl of his dreams, and I knew he was talking with me. And when his mom died, I broke down sobbing. Denise had been the only person that knew about Kevin and I, and she had been there for me when my mom died. She had been my mom for the past few months.

The night that I found out, I cried until there were no tears left, and my dad came back up to the hotel room from gambling. He was drunk, and decided that it would be fun to use me as a target. As his fists rained down blows on me, I sobbed, knowing I had no parents left in this world.

A week later, it was confirmed that the Jonas Brothers, little Frankie, and their dad were missing. I prayed for them every day, and asked God to return them, and to possibly put Kevin and I together again.

8 months after my disappearance, and 6 months after the love of my life's, I turned 18. Nothing in that day went differently. Dad woke up, took a super long shower, told me to stay in the room, and went downstairs to the poker tables. I got on his computer and checked in at fansites and celebrity-stalker sites to see if my boy had been found yet. Nothing. As usual. I stayed online until late that night when I heard my dad fumbling with the handle. I instantly turned off the computer, jumped on the bed, and picked up a book, but I couldn't focus on the words as I thought about how this could have been my wedding night.

He came in, drunk as usual, and instead of coming over to hit me, he passed me, and grabbed up his suitcase. He began throwing clothes into it, along with his computer and other possessions. As he did so, he said, "Get yourself packed. We're leaving. I met a man who has a great set up all ready for us." I slowly began putting my things together in silence. After I finished, we left the room, checked out, and got into the truck.

As we went down the road, I cautiously asked, "So, where is this set up?" He grinned and said, "It's in the mountains in Oregon. There are lots of people there, and they're Christian, so it should be a good community." I looked down at my hands and said quietly, "I was thinking, could you drop me off with Scotty or Charlie? I could live with them for a while before I support myself. I am 18 now."

Dad slammed on the brakes and pulled off onto the side of the road. He put on the emergency brake and slowly looked over at me. I felt myself shiver as he glared at me.

"Never talk about those two brothers of yours again, understand? In fact, never talk about any of your siblings around me again! I don't care if you are 18 or 30, but you are staying with me. Just you remember that I am your father and I deserve respect!"

He suddenly slapped me really hard, and I was thrown back against the passenger door, clutching my face in shock. He got back on the highway as I lay curled up in the farthest corner of my seat. Blood ran between my fingers as I felt my tender lip. It had split, adding to the nosebleed I had procured. I didn't like Dad's new version of Christianity, and was scared about the place we were going.

We drove all through the night and into the next day. I tried to ignore my dad's crazy ravings about how life was unfair to him and that he was going to start new at this place. Trees flashed by as we passed through Mt. Shasta, where dad's brother and sister lived. I could see my aunt's house from the highway, and I thought seriously about throwing myself out of the vehicle to escape my father. Then the house was gone, and we soon left the area. We passed the border to Oregon an hour later. We kept driving and driving.

Around 3 pm, we turned off the deserted main road onto a dirt road. Certain it couldn't be far, I kept thinking that the buildings would be just around the next corner. After about 30 minutes of that, I turned to my dad and cautiously asked, "What group are they? I mean, what Christian denomination?"

He downshifted as we went up a hill.

"You know that compound in Texas that had everyone going crazy?"

My heart sank deep beneath my feet as I nodded my head, praying he was joking.

"Well, this group was started by the same guy. But they have a new leader now, the man I met today. He is a strong man, and his wife died too, but that only made him stronger. He took his 

kids out of a sinful atmosphere and now their souls are on God's path. I aim to do the same with you."

I sat there, stunned beyond words. My dad was driving us to a polygamist sect that were obviously hidden or a very well kept secret. I couldn't believe that he had really gone this mad. I would be stuck there, probably doomed to marry some 60 year-old man with 8 other wives. Finally my tongue loosened, and I started talking in a very low voice.

"Daddy, please, don't do this. You don't have to do this. We can still go home, and live with the rest of the family. They're hurting too, and now they've lost their dad, but you can give him back to them. You just have to come back to me first. Please don't take us there, turn around while we still can. This is a really horrible idea."

He stopped the car, and for a minute, I thought he was back to his senses. Then he turned around in his seat and, as quick as a snake, he grabbed my hoop earring and yanked hard on it. I screamed as it ripped through my ear lobe. Gasping in pain, I swiftly pulled the earring off of my other ear, and plastered myself as close to the door as I could, my eyes wide and dilated with terror. The man I had known as my dad leered at me.

"That is what happens to those who try to tempt. There will be far worse repercussions if you continue, or if you rebel when we arrive. You will do whatever I or other men tell you to do, understand?"

When I didn't answer, he reached over and grabbed my wounded earlobe, pinching it and causing blood to ooze out onto his fingers.

"Understand?"

I scrabbled with my hands at the chair underneath me, desperately attempting to not try to get him off of me in fear of an even more horrible punishment as I screamed out, "Yes, yes, yes, I understand, just please, please, ah, I understand!"

He abruptly let go, wiped his bloody hands on my holey jeans, started up the truck, and we were once again on our way to my doom.