Warning violence abuse swearing,

I do not own Transformers prime! If I did. Their would be more cute moments and wing flutters!

Enjoy. Criticism nessesiary but don't kill me with it.

"Slave!"

The young girl jumped up from a dead sleep at the sound of her fathers heavy voice. He was home already?

Gulping she threw the covers off her as if they were burning her and ran down to her fathers side, living up to the nickname he had given her.

As the girl reached the bottom of the stairs she sunk her shoulders, her father stood in the doorway. His left hand gripping his right wrist, the girl knew those signs; those were how he displayed his anger.

Not wanting to feel her fathers wrath if she disobeyed the blonde haired girl dashed up to her father, pausing for a minuet then bowing,

"Y-yes father?"

The drunkard growled and bent down glaring into the girls blue eyes.

"It's master! Slave!"

She struck the girl, sending her jerking to the side. She held her face, whimpering before her 'master'

approached.

"I am not yurh father, I am yurh master a-hand yurh my slave, understand me?"

The drunken man grabbed the small girls wrist and yanked her from the floor. Sending bolts of white pain through her wrist as she felt it snap, it burned hellish, it felt as if her whole wrist was devolving into nothing.

But she knew better then to make a noise. She knew it would only come back and hurt her three times worse, swallowing the pain, she let her master drag her into the basement.

The basement is the place he would bring her when he was deathly mad. And as each stare came and went she felt her feet try to freeze up on her.

She halted: only to be thrown face first into the darkness, banding her head off the concrete, she wince and gasped in pain. Grabbing her nose.

She knew it was broken, but still. It hurt like hell.

She was slightly relieved when the for shut: showing her father had once again left her down there. She sighed and backed up into her favorite corner. Some nights it got extremely cold down here in her masters basement, and she found most comfort laying by the radiator.

Her small sobs turned into outright cries as she poured her sorry excuse for a life out to her shadows. Not that they would respond: they never did.

The small, fourteen year old blond girl named Vairity, has never known a life outside of her so called slavery.

For as long as she could remember she has been living with her master, obeying, fleeing, and the beatings were all she's ever known.

But her master was a kind man, she knew. Because he took her in when no one else would.

She shivered as she hugged herself, rubbing her palms against her forearms to generate some warmth. The Nevada nights never seeded to amaze her, one night would be hot and sweaty. The next. Freezing cold.

Her father knew she would never attempt to escape. She was afraid, not because of her master. But because of what she's grown up knowing.

'I treat you like an angel compared to the other men in this world, do you understand me? No man will ever treat you better then I'

She understood. And she feared.

Seven years of nothing but beatings.

Seven years of little education. Locked in a basement, hardly fed and fearing for her life because every deep voice: every manly build or walk. She was afraid of.

She was snapped from her thoughts when she heard a door slam. She had her head down the whole time. She she didn't know weather or not her master had entered the basement, it left the house.

She got her answer when she heard a heavy step.

"Slave-"

Her master grumbled. She could just make out his form, attempting to hold onto the old wooden rail for support.

"Yes master?"

She said briskly. Deciding weather to get up and go to him or sink into the darkness of the basement.

"I need a drink! Go to the store and buy me a drink!"

He ordered. Stumbling off the bottom step and tripping onto the basement floor.

"Now!"

He yelled, the girl screamed in fright and ran up to him, bowing.

"Yes sir, right away sir!"

She took the ten dollars from his outstretched hand and bolted past him. But she was stopped when her masters strong grip ceased her already throbbing wrist.

"If you don' come back with my drink like the last time yuh won' like the results."

With that he threw her wrist to the side. Adding to the pain. But she held in her cries and bolted out the door.

She didn't look around her, because if she did. She would of seen a raven haired boy watch her as she left, and follow her on his motorcycle.

-•••••-

The small girl hid herself in her thin white sweatshirt, not at all caring how ripped and dirtied it was. All she cared about was getting what her father wanted.

The day was still young. If she had to guess. Probably five of six in the afternoon. She hurried down the street, praying to god no one saw her.

When Jasper's liquor store came in sight Vairity visibly relaxed. The fourteen year old girl pushed the door open. Wincing slightly at the bells.

She glanced over at the woman who was currently working at the register. The red haired woman locked eyes with the tortured girl and softened her gaze.

This woman knew the girl. And knew what she was forced to do. But she also knew she couldn't sell liquor to the underaged girl, and felt terrible for it.

She watched the girl come up to the counter and put up the same bottle of White Russian she had tried to buy the other day.

"I'm sorry, young lady... You are underage"

Something snapped within the girl like a twig underfoot. The woman at the register could see it, the way she slumped. Her breathing picked up.

Vairity threw the ten dollars onto the counter, she wouldn't fail her master this time. She couldn't.

"Please"

She begged her voice small, almost nonexistent.

"I'm sorry-"

But the woman's voice was lost as the blonde girl grabbed the wine and ran.

Oh, she ran, as fast as she possibly could. Heaving and gasping, not used to having so much exercise.

Unknownist of how far away her home was the girl stopped. Tucked the White Russian under her armpit and gripped her knees, her throat was burning.

She hardly heard the motorcycle approach.

"Hey, Vairity right? Need a ride?"

The raven haired boy revved his motorcycles engine to show off a bit. The girl seemed fine until she turned around.

She let out the loudest scream she could and fell back. The White Russian falling from the safety of under her armpit and crashing to the ground. Shattering glass all around her.

But that didn't matter at all. There was a man. He was in front of her.

She desperately crawled back words. Trying to escape the boy who parked his bike and approached.

"P-please!"

She begged, no she shouldn't've stopped! She should of kept running!

She hardly winced as a piece of glass shredded her knee.

"Calm down I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy said, his voice soft. But she wouldn't be fooled, that was exactly what her father had said.

Her panicking was interrupted by two purple looking sports cars zooming past. Both fiercely hit the breaks and spun around.

Before she could completely understand what was going on the raven haired boy picked her up and set her on the motorcycle. He sat behind her. She could faintly hear him yelling to the motorcycle.

But the speeds were to much for her. She had never driven or been in a moving vehicle, she begged the boy not to hurt her. But it was to late,

She blacked out, falling limp into the Raven haired boys arms.

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