Chapter one: Tainted Soul

Roslind rolled over in her bed, trying to cover her head, through the thick fiberglass walls; she could still hear her mother's screaming, and her fathers' yelling. She tried thinking of different things, like that man she always seen in the woods, or…or her paintings. But this time, before her mind could completely welcome the darkness, she finally heard glass shattering and her mother's screech.

"You don't know what you fucking want! Why the fuck are you staying around?! You know how much I, and Rose hates you! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

The room underneath hers went dead silent for a single moment, till…

"I don't know what I want?! You're the whore who fucked another man! You have no right to say I don't know what I want. That child up there isn't mine! So I don't give two shit's weather she hates me or not! And I don't give a flying rats ass if you still love me or not!" It was the common reply from her…'father', finally the silence dragged on, maybe…they were done for the night. Roslind covered up to her nose with the blanket, the cool fabric quickly became stained with her tears. She looked up, out of her window, hoping to see the person who helped her before…helped her with her depression, her suicidal thoughts. But all that was outside was the raging fall storm. As the thunder started to calm her shaking nerves she closed her eyes, but something else dragged her out of the yearning darkness, it was the sound of her mother's body slamming against the hardwood floor. The unmistakable skin against skin contact is what made her kick her blankets off, and sit up in bed, staring at the door in the cloaking darkness. Then, her 'fathers' voice pierced through the darkness, pushing its way through her own skin…and to her very essence. Because of this man…Roslind, knew no fear.

Reaching under her pillow, she knew it would be there waiting for her…her fingers rubbed against the cool metal, the comfort was more than what she had expected, it didn't bother her at all. Grasping it in her hand, she pulled it out, even in the dim light of the lightening she could see her reflection staring back at her. She needed to feel the cool bite running across her skin; she begged to feel the warm flow after that. She placed the blade to her wrist; closing her eyes putting slight pressure down on the vain…it was almost there, she felt it slicing slowly. She just wanted enough to get over the anxiety she had begun to feel…

"You…you betrayed ME, I was putting my life on the line for you, and how do you repay me? By spreading your legs for the entire world to see! And you wanted me, to believe that, that little bitch upstairs, is mine. You decided to play the age old trick, of saying 'you got me pregnant when you left Michael. That baby inside my tummy is yours.' Oh no….I Michael Helmwick am much smarter than the average male. You, you dirty little SLUT…who doesn't deserve to even walk on the same road, hell the same FLOOR as I do…" It was the simple guilt trip he had placed on her, on Mary-Anne since the day Roslind was born; Michael Helmwick used to be the man of Mary-Anne's dreams, now…even to Roslind, he was nothing more than a cold blooded monster.

It was when Roslind heard another slap, was when she fully tossed herself out of the safety and warmth of her own bed. Stopping, hesitating for a moment at the door, feeling eyes peer on her back, she didn't dare to look behind her. As her hand yanked the door open, she forced her legs to move down the stairs. The slaps, the thuds…they had all became common, the beatings from her father. To both, Mary-Anne, and herself; she didn't stop at the bottom of the stairs, she didn't stop in the hall way, she stopped when she reached Michael, her 'father'. Her voice shouting over her mother's wails.

"Michael stop it! Please!" Roslind screamed at him, tears threatening to stream down her face. Showing tears, showing any type of fear, would edge him on…but if she begged just enough, it just might work one last time.

Michael stopped in mid punch, he turned around and faced his wife's bitch of a seventeen year old daughter; that's when his eyes….decided to roam over her, caressing her body with his pupils. He had smirked, lowering his hand from his wife.

"You…want me, to stop punishing your mother, for being a dirty, unfaithful, lying, cheating, and a whore? Give me a reason, and I'll stop." He seemed serious, but his eyes were laughing. Roslind, biting her tongue before saying anything too rash; she took in a deep breath and stepped up to him.

"Mary-Anne fucked up. So what? Everyone does once in a while, but she and I don't deserve this. No one does, this is domestic violence and is taken very seriously." She looked at her mother, her face was nearly a bloody pulp, at first glance she thought was a giant blueberry. When she looked back at Michael, he still wasn't convinced. She gave a soft sigh, shaking her head.

"Okay okay so royally fucked up, and in the end I was the result. Either way, you should still at least tolerate her. I can move out in less than a year…haven't you given it even the slightest thought, which perhaps you COULDN'T bring a child into this world? And I was supposed to happen? How do you know a hundred percent, that I'm NOT yours?" She tried again. Standing up to Michael was the first thing her mother told her NEVER to do, and here she was, voice cracking, hands trembling….for a second she could've sworn Michael had lost his cold façade for a moment. Till he gave a smile, stepping away from Mary-Anne, Roslind was his new target, and by the way he licked his lips…it wasn't going to be pretty. Maybe beating people was his way of getting off; maybe he was just doing this from the sheer pleasure of it…maybe-

Roslind, caught off guard by the sudden shock of pain coming from the right side of her face. Michael had back handed her, and she was on the floor within a blink of an eye, and a loud thud. She had landed with her back to him and her stomach on the floor, as she tried to roll over, he was already on top of her, shoving her face back down on the floor, Mary-Anne sat there, staring in horror as he slowly pried her legs apart. In that split second, she panicked, trying to crawl forward. He grasped her ankle roughly yanking her back.

"NO!" Mary-Anne screeched, watching Roslind scrape at the hardwood floor.

Roslind taking a second to look up at the coffee table that held a beautiful ceramic vase; hitting the coffee table once, it wobbled. It wasn't enough; he gave another hard yank, working at his belt now. She could hear his jeans unzipping, in another sudden shock of panic, she whacked the table hard enough to feel her own hand start to crack then…ceramic bounced everywhere, pieces scattering, a few more shattered. Reaching out she grasped a sharp piece, slicing her palm…she didn't her Mary-Anne move as Michael mounted her, all she did was turn around and thrusting her hand up-

Warmth, a sudden rush of warmth slipped through her fingers, over her palms and down her wrists. Her eyes were closed, but she knew she hit someone, she didn't know who…until the soft voice made her realize what she had done.

"Roslind…" Mary-Anne whispered.

Roslind opened her eyes, seeing her mother's face go suddenly pale, Michael sitting off on the side. She shoved him off of her…and she still thrusted that sharp piece of glass up into her mother's chest. Mary-Anne fell off to the side, grasping her chest, Michael was already on his phone calling 9-1-1. Even as his dick stood out of his pants, Roslind, sat there on the floor, drenched in her own mothers blood, while Michael stared over Mary-Anne with a smile.

Michael already knew she was whore, but this had just proven, she was an idiotic whore. By shoving him off of Roslind…it had coasted her own life instead of her daughters' virginity. He shook his head, wondering what would happen to Roslind now.

She stared out of the window, above the loveseat…the thunderstorm still raged on, and she still felt those eyes, peering at her, deep into her now tainted soul.