Hello fellow fanfictioners! This story is pretty dark and deep and yeah it's one of those stories. THIS STORY MAY TRIGGER! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! I do not own the Host or these characters. I only own the plot and my own characters.

Wanda

I hear the door open and slam shut. I wipe my sweaty hands on my ratty old jeans and my throat tightens. I pace back and forth in my closet sized room. If I forgot to get something for him he will beat the shit out of me.

"Is my food ready bitch?" His eyes had a sharp piercing glint, never a good sign.

"Y-yes." I stuttered, looking at my dirty bare feet.

"Then where the hell is it?!" He yells. I quickly run over to the warm oven and take his food out, burning my hands slightly in the process. I wince and I grab a beer for him. I bring him the meal and then run upstairs before he can hit me.

I know his calm won't last. My foster father Liam can go from calm to flipping tables in a second. I know we are running out of money. I try to spend as little money as I can, but her only give me a few hundred dollars to pay the bills and buy the food. Liam owns a ratty old club for prostitutes and old perverted men. Luckily he hasn't asked me to start working for him, but it is only a matter of time. I seek refuge upstairs in my room. My room is actually a closet at the end of the hall. There's no bed, no windows and the walls are stained yellow. I think they used to be white. I have to curl up at night and use one of my old sweatshirts as a blanket. I have only been in this home for 2 months. And honestly it has been one of the best ones. He hasn't touched me, yet. He has hit me, and locked me in this room, and I have not had anything to eat in a few days but he hasn't touched me intimately. My other foster fathers have though, making me forever afraid of men and people in general.

Suddenly, I hear a huge bang come from downstairs

Oh. Shit. I'm going to die.

I run down stairs and I see Liam in handcuffs and the police pulling him out the door. Oh gosh what is going to happen to me? Are they going to send me back to David? Or Jack? No, I refuse. I won't go back to them. Never. I will kill myself before I go back there.

"Excuse me, Miss? My head snaps up and I meet the eyes of a police officer. I squeak and jump back. The officer holds his hands. "I am police officer Wes Lewis. Are you being held captive?"

"No." I whisper. "I am his foster child. I have been here for a couple of months."

"Okay, you are going to need to come down to the station with me. Do you have a social worker?"

I nod. "Yes, but I don't have her contact information. She wouldn't care anyway." I mutter the last part. Then I snap my eyes up and glance at Officer Lewis to see if he heard me. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that he didn't.

He leads me outside and ushers me into a cop car and begins to drive. I couldn't decide if he was being genuine or just trying to fool me. People do that a lot. They trick you into gaining your trust and then they destroy it. People take your trust and slice it until it lays scrambled, impaired, and dying on the floor. I study Wes. He looks trustworthy, but I have found I am a horrible judge of character and decide not to trust him at all. He is a man after all. We pull into the station and he climbs out and motions for me to follow. I follow silently into the building. I sit down in one of the chairs try to process what just happened. After thinking for hours about my screwed up life, I slump in my chair and drift off into a coma like sleep.

Wes

"Please Jeb!" I beg my friend. "She is such a sweetheart!"

"Last time you said she was a sweetheart you dropped of a girl and every other word out of her mouth was fuck." Jeb replies.

"But it worked out! You and Trudy are such good foster parents! You also have a medical degree that is extremely helpful for these situations. This girl looks so broken. On the car ride here she did not speak at all. She only spoke once when I had to ask her who she was. She didn't even give me her name."

"So let me get this straight. You found this girl in abandoned looking house and she claims she is the foster child. You don't know anything about her, and you want me to take her in. For all you know she could pregnant and expecting twins. For heaven's sake, she could be a stripper."

"She isn't I stripper. I don't think she would be able to take off her old sweatshirt in front of someone, let alone her take off her underwear!" I sigh into the phone. "Please! It is obvious she has been neglected. I think she has been to multiple foster families that harmed and scarred her.

"Fine! But I am doing this only because you begged like a baby… And maybe I do want to meet the girl." I can hear Jeb grinning into the phone.

"Great!"

"If you like her so much why don't you take her in?" Jeb asks even though he already knows the answer.

"You know how I feel about that. And she probably needs a lot of medical attention and extensive therapy, which I simply can't afford." I sigh. If I had the money, I think I would take this girl in. Well, maybe after I learned her name.

"So you're using me for my money!" Jeb screeched.

"Oh don't be so dramatic." I laugh back. "You and I both know you have more money than you know what to do with. Tell you what. I'll try to get all of the information I can get out of her and I will drop her off tomorrow at four pm.

"Fine. See you then." Jeb hung up.

Okay so this was a shorter chapter and the rest of the chapters in this story will be longer. I will try to update every Sunday. I am also looking for a beta, so if anyone is interested just pm me. Review too please! If you all like the story I might start updating Sundays and Wednesdays.