Evangeline's Pov

"Anastasia." I growled to my fair haired younger sister darkly. This had been the third time i'd told her, and I was not going to say it again. "Don't watch that crap on our television when we've got work to do." I brushed my auburn hair out of my face.
My sibling rolled her grey-blue eyes mockingly, like my glare was merely an empty threat, and continued to watch the program, not a single care lacing her features. My eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. This was no time for relaxing.

Me and Anastasia had ran away from home a long time ago, when I was just 11 years old and she was at the tender age of 7. Before you ask, yes. We had a reason.
It was due to an unfortunate case of being brought up by what I'd like to call the scum of the earth. Our father was a drug abusing, alcoholic, weedy little man. Surely you can see why he had to be eradicated, destroyed. He was man who was being belittled at work - A man who showed such cowardice, that he wouldn't simply stand up against his boss like the more heroic men would: No, he'd come home and take all his pathetic, suppressed anger out on us.
Well, when I say us, I mean me.

When it started, my world, my everything, was shattered. A father-daughter relationship turned sadistic and cruel, and so early on in my life, at 6 years old. I sit in front of my mother (it was noteworthy that she was too drunk to even comprehend what was going on), knowing he'd be home soon. I think maybe it'll be different tonight. Maybe he will love me tonight.
Of course that never happened. Every single day I was left cowering, bloodied.
Each time he did it, I felt more of a numbness. There would be less pain on my ravaged face.
Soon, I'd just wait for it to happen. Expressionless. I didn't care about me.
However, you know what I was afraid of? What really unnerved me? That when my sibling got to a ripe enough age, he'd start beating her, too.
I'd always make sure that he'd use me as the outlet of his anger.
No, I definitely couldn't let it happen to my innocent sister.
As a consequence, many a time I was sent to the hospital, my moronic mother telling the nurses I just 'fell'. What a life - just waiting for your next beating, being long past the point of tears. Past the point of wanting my daddy to love me.

But don't you worry about me.
Most traces of the violent acts he had committed were gone - from my body, at least... That had healed up a long time ago. It was just a shame that he left wounds that wouldn't heal in my mind.
Thing is, dear reader, I don't think I'm completely sane anymore...
You see, the girl my father used to cope with his cowardice, was also the girl to be the undoing of him.

It was a Wednesday, the night it happened. I knew I was old enough to take care of myself, and my sister by now. And I also knew i'd do a better job of taking care of us than our morons of parents.
So, I did it.
I was not going to be the one spilling blood any more. No, I was not going to be the one spilling blood for mine and my sisters future on the night of my 11th birthday. Not this time.
Heh. What a stupid, stupid creature he was. Did you know, that you don't need brute strength to outwit a man? You just need the element of surprise ...

I've still got the knife I used to kill him, you know. For protection. For a reminder to myself that me and my beloved sister that we came this far. I am now 14, almost 15 from what I can remember, and she is 10. See, 3 years, and i'm okay. We are okay.
Oh, silly me. Am I ranting? Yes? Well. I should get on with the story...

"You need to relax Eva." Anastasia sighed, not caring that we were in no state to be relaxing. I flinched.
Eva. My sister nicknamed me that when we were little, because my actual name was too hard for her to say. I never gave her one. I'm uncomfortable with nicknames.
She's the only one I'd let call me that.
Eva, I mean.
I wouldn't let anyone else call me Eva.
Not that anyone else spoke to me at all.

"Relax?" I breathed raggedly. We were in no state to relax. "We've got to get to work! Do you want to eat tonight? Do you want to have all the luxuries we work our asses of to get?" My voice had gotten shrill by the end of my reply, and my hands were balled up into fists. Didn't she know how much we struggled to live the way we did? It wasn't much, but god damn we'd got by pretty good, considering.

My sister huffed, before retorting "I'd hardly call what you do 'work'." under her breath.
What? You want to know what we did for a living? Okay, I'll tell you. But don't leave. Most people don't have the stomach to get this far into a story of such a twisted girl. So when I tell you, promise me you wont leave me.
Please.
Since we ran away from our home in Cornwall, away from the crime scene and into the inky black night, we had found an abandoned house all the way in London, where we were sure we'd never get caught.
The house wasn't the best, it was pretty damp and grotty, and the wall paper was peeling off the walls, but we were very grateful. Done it up pretty nice as well, with all the little trinkets we'd collected. Or rather, stolen.
Yes, we were thieves. Doing everything we could to get by, to live. I'd even sold myself to another teenage thief in exchange for that TV my sister was sitting in front of. I am not saying I was proud of what I had done, but hey, I'd do anything to make my sisters life better. Anything.

"Don't even go there Anastasia! You know everything I do is for you! You need to start pulling your weight, or we won't be able to afford to survive! Is that what you want? Do you want to die? We are struggling as it is!" I howled at her, menacingly. Fear flashed in her eyes, and struck her core like a lightning bolt.
I had never been that way with her before.
However, we had not eaten in days, and she wouldn't move away from that damn TV. I didn't understand why she didn't worry about these things.
Soon, the fear inside her was masked with fury.
"Well, why don't you just leave? I have everything I want right here. I can make a living for myself without YOU pressuring me!" Betrayal shook through me. What was she saying? She was only 11. I had to look after her.
Fierce tears fell down my face. Without saying a word, I planned my outing tonight.
I surveyed myself in the mirror, analyzing every flaw. I had to look perfect if I was going to sell myself again for some quick cash. I wasn't up for some complicated plan to steal something. Maybe I could catch that thief I got the telly off of the other week.
I ripped the brush through my loose auburn curls forcefully, as I looked back at my reflection.
I wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but I wasn't the most foul either.
I didn't like how I was rather short for my age, how my nails were constantly chipped, my lips constantly chapped -probably due to my cold, dank home - or my chin dimple.
However, I did like how my cheeks dimpled also, I liked my ample curves, and I liked how my eyes were a striking emerald green, complimented by thick, dark lashes.
I put on some makeup to accentuate myself, before grasping it along with my hairbrush, and shoving it roughly in my handbag.

"E-Evangeline .." Anastasia whispered, seeing how much her words hurt me. "I - I -"
"I'm going out to get some money. Maybe we'll eat tomorrow." I mumbled, cutting her off, walking out of our door. She called after me, but I couldn't bare to face her quite yet.

I decided to go to the docks, because that was where i'd normally find the boy. I think his name was Tristen.
The sky was the colour of coal, littered in diamond-like stars, and the night air was cold and crisp, as it was the middle of November. I scurried along the cobbled pathways nimbly, wanting to get this over and done with.
My hopes of earning some cash were quickly dimmed. Surveying the surroundings, I noticed the docks were deserted that night, excluding an old, homeless man, who'm of which looked intoxicated on some sort of drug.
I was brought out of my thoughts when I noticed there was a ship docked that I hadn't seen before.
One look at it, and I was captivated. That ship was unlike the ones i'd normally see. This one was beautiful, picturesque even in the moonlight, but it was clear to see it had been through some wear and tear. What I didn't notice under my trance, was the black flag - and upon it, a skull. Or the fact that the ship seemed to be radiating a golden glow ...
That was my first mistake.
Don't ask me why I did it, but I curiously climbed up the steps that led on board. There looked like there would be some valuable stuff on this ship that was worth stealing. And, if I got caught, maybe I could sell myself to a sailor for some cash.
Like I said, anything to get my sister fed.
That was my second mistake.

A few barrels on the side of the ship caught my eye.
I knew I didn't have time to go into the ships hold, god knows where the crew were. I'd just take whatever I could find in the barrels. There would probably be some wine in there, which I could sell pretty easily.

I rummaged through them, the cold starting to eat through the booty shorts I had on -Jeans were restricting on a fast getaway- and the tank top. Note to self - if I've got money left after I buy the essentials, I need to buy myself a new jumper.

I was about to give up, when I found 6 bottles of champagne, right at the bottom. "Bingo .." I whispered. Who kept champagne outside in the night like that anyway? Oh well, what was their loss was my gain.
I quickly grabbed the bottles and tucked them under my arm, planning for a quick getaway.
Third mistake.

Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my wrist. "Hello honey .." A rough male voice whispered on my neck.
Great. Now i'd have to sell myself tonight."H-Hey you," I managed to choke out in a low, sultry voice. I'd be out all night now, I wouldn't be able to get back to sort things out with my sister.
"Tell me Darlin', Do you know what year it is?" He asked in a seductive tone. Huh. That was the weirdest start to a pickup line i'd ever heard.
I replied, rather unsure of myself "I-Its November the 20th, 2012 ..." I was getting nervous. What was he playing at?
He chuckled, and I knew what was about to happen.
"Remember that date sunshine ... because that is the date you began working for Cap'n Hook."

Confusion raced through me as I was chucked up in the air, and into some kind of sack, and now I was encased in darkness. "What the fuck is going on?!" I hissed. I was cramped in such a small place, it almost made me feel claustrophobic. Due to this, the limited space gave me no room to get out my knife from the back pocket of my shorts. Damn.

A roar of muffled laughter ensued. "Cap'n, we got ourselves the harlot you'd been looking for! And such a feisty one, too!"
I made a sound so animalistic, it was almost unfamiliar to even me. I flailed, and struggled, the thought of being kidnapped not as heartbreaking as the thought of leaving my beloved little sister alone to fend for herself. "Let me go you fucking bastards! When you let me out of this sack i'm going to fucking gut you all! I got a sister to take care of!"
A young, smooth voice replied, unphased by my outburst, "Perfect ..."