Full Summary: Shelby doesn't fit in anywhere in High School, she doesn't have many friends, and doesn't get along with many people. Shelby also has a secret, she lives with an abusive father who murdered her twin brother and mother when she was seven years old. Shelby is too stubborn to ask for help and too proud to admit she needs it. Eventually, Shelby tries to end it all, having enough.

((Hello there! Welcome to Peace and Monsters! This plot was offered to me by, TheOwlPatronus and is dedicated to her fully :3. I will be posting the characters appearance, house, outfits by chapter onto my profile so if you interested take a peak! (Especially if you are a visual person like myself.) I hope you enjoy what I have to offer in this and please don't forget to review!)

…What happened?

I blinked a few times trying to process where I was and why I was so cold. My vision was still blurry from just waking. I brought my sprawled out arms closer to me as I pushed my stiff body from the ground. Something wasn't right though…I looked down and saw green blades of grass; they were bent at different angles from my body being pressed down on them.

I shook my head and sat up quickly which I immediately regretted as my head began throbbing at the sudden movement. I put my hand to my head as I grimaced in pain, "Why am I outside?"

I couldn't remember what happened and maybe I was better off not knowing. Remembering could be painful sometimes, for me at least.

I took a deep breath and held it as I stood to keep from screaming as pain erupted through my body.

I definitely didn't want to remember.

Dirt and grass fell from my hardly clothed body as I walked up the stairs to my back porch. I dusted off the best I could before sliding the back doors open and stepping inside quietly. I didn't want to wake the beast, after whatever he did last night I wasn't in the mood for anything else.

It wasn't usually this bad. It was never good, ever, but it wasn't this bad either. I closed my eyes tight feeling a rush of emotions try to take me over, my eyes began to water against my will but I swallowed the lump in my throat quickly and rushed upstairs. The faster I got ready, the faster I could get out of this shithole and escape for a few hours. Even if those hours were painful as well.

I reached the last stair and walked down the hall straight to my room. I didn't have to worry about opening the door quietly because I had no door. Privacy was something I was not allowed in the house because, 'what did I have to hide?' That's what he said at least. The only rooms in the house that had doors were the bathrooms and his room.

Luckily, I had a bathroom in my room.

Other people would consider us, him and I, very privileged or well off. Because of that very miniscule fact, we were immediately perceived as happy even after the tragic accident.

It pissed me off.

Just because something or someone looks nice doesn't mean it is. Castor bean plants when fully bloomed were beautiful but when you extract what's on the inside you see how truly deadly they are. Looks mean nothing, nice clothes, big houses, fancy cars; they're all things to distract people from seeing the person on the inside, from seeing the monster. The creature that put on the façade of normalcy and compassion when really they were callous and unforgiving, it makes me sick to think people can be so dense. Money makes up for everything though, right?

No.

No amount of money will ever erase the unrelenting pain that consumes me every day. The physical will never overwhelm torture of the emotional, though, sometimes I wished it would. I would much rather live poor and happy than dead inside with riches, with monsters. Money and power brings the monster out in everyone.

My father…is the biggest monster of them all.

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