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Chapter Two: My Life for Hire MPOV

Somebody give me a sign,

That everything is going as planned,

And then everything falls away,

Into the darkness of this shallow place.

The detail is striking,

The room's cold and frightening

You'll kick and you'll scream,

You'll try everything to survive,

But you should know your fate by now.

Flying on my skateboard, I tried not to hit any unlucky pedestrians. It had started to drizzle lightly, and my hair not being a friend of the rain, I tried to hurry up and get to school. Thankfully, I got to school before the rain got any harder. Once I entered school grounds, I picked up my skateboard and carried it through the halls, trying to avoid the crowds of people about to smash me into the walls. Making my way to my locker without injury, I shoved my skateboard in and shut the metal door with a clank.

The bell rang, signaling it was time to go to class. I was only fourteen, so I had to take freshman courses. Walking to my classroom, I passed my slut of a sister; a hoard of guys following her, drooling like lovesick puppy dogs. Ugh. She saw me and gave me a smirk, like she was so much better than me and could prove it by having twenty guys surround her at all times. Of course her boyfriend (the man-whore of the school) was the only one who actually got to kiss her and stuff (while he was around, that is…). Rolling my eyes in disgust, I made my way to my classroom and took a seat.

School was typically boring. I didn't know which I hated more, though, going home or staying at school. Both provided me with tons of chances to get humiliated and picked on, so needless to say I didn't like either of them. When school ended, I groaned in remorse; at least I couldn't get BEAT at school, home was a different story. One that I had become all too used to. Grabbing my skateboard out of my locker, I trudged to the sidewalk. Other kids passed by me, eager to go home to their perfect families and other perfect crap. One thing I had learned over the years though was that some things may seem perfect on the outside, but truth be told, they were extreme lies. My family was nice to me and all when other people were around, but once we were behind closed doors, the torture began. They were cowards.

The air outside was humid, way hotter than the normal pleasantness. I tried to go as slowly as I could, walking some of the way, to make sure I got home as late as I could so I would have to put up with as little torture as possible. But all too soon, I arrived at home; the sky began drizzling again, like it was sad I had to come home too. Opening the door, I couldn't hear any of my family members talking or whatnot. My sister had cheerleading, the twins played soccer or something, and my mom and step dad were at work (hopefully). But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone, if anyone, was at home with me. Ignoring the weird sensation in my gut, I trudged up the stairs to my pathetic room. It was the tiniest room in the house, the walls a painted white brick. My black and white bedspread seemed to welcome me as I laid down on it, savoring the softness.

Before I could take a nap, however, a noise downstairs alerted me. It sounded like my door being slammed shut… Sighing, I got up from my peaceful domain and walked carefully down the stairs. What I came face to face with really didn't surprise me. My sister's boyfriend, Heath, had the refrigerator door wide open, no doubt stuffing his face FULL of food. Why the hell my sister gave him a key to our house, I didn't understand. "What do you want, Heath?" I asked in irritation. He slowly looked up over the fridge door, a weird look in his eyes. "You," he said, shutting the door, sauntering over to me.

You see, Heath had a little secret. He tried to get into anyone's pants while my sister wasn't around. Like I said, he was a man-whore. Rolling my eyes I tried to back up slowly from him. As he got closer and closer to me, I turned to run but he grabbed my wrist, twisting hard. I cried out in pain as he pulled me against him. "I've always wanted you," he whispered in my ear as he tried to kiss my neck. Screeching, I tried to get out of his grasp, but like most Italian boys as big as him, he was strong. I was wriggling like a captured lizard, but sadly I couldn't drop my tail. He held me tighter to him, no doubt trying to make me hold still. But like hell I wouldn't! "Heath, stop!" I cried in anguish. His massive six foot five frame loomed over my petite 5 foot one, he was really scary when he was like this, not to mention he was hurting me. "Why would I do that? You're enjoying this," he replied, pressing his lips to mine.

I almost gagged, they were slimy and disgusting. I wanted to scream at him to go to hell where he belonged but seeming as his lips were pressed against mine VERY tightly, I couldn't. Trying my best to keep from moving my mouth with his I tried to get loose. Seeing a window of opportunity, I bent my knee and aimed straight for his crotch. It hit straight on, knocking him to the ground. He gasped, falling to the floor (much to my relief). Wiping his icky slobber off my lips, I bounded up the stairs. Opening the door to my room, I slammed it shut and locked it, collapsing onto my bed. I hated physical contact with ANYONE, not like anyone would want to show it to me. My family all hated me and the last person I ever got close to I basically caused to kill himself…

His name was Jordyn-your average athlete; big, tall, and muscular. He was totally in love with me, we dated for five years. I thought I was in love with him too, we were the perfect couple. My family actually didn't treat me like much of an outcast, at least when he was around. But last year, something changed in Jordyn, he wasn't the same. Something was off in him, I couldn't tell what though. Finally, his behavior changed drastically, he wasn't the same at all. He wasn't the person I loved anymore, so I broke up with him. I didn't know it, but he went crazy. He shot himself. When I found out I was devastated, but when they found his suicide note, I broke inside. I was the cause of his death, or so he said. I took it to heart, finally excepting that I was horrible-just like everyone in my family had been telling me for years.

I had already cut myself a few times before, but I hid it from Jordyn. This was my breaking point; the time in which I would become a full-fledge cutter. At first, I didn't let anyone see. But eventually, people found out and the gossip spread faster than you'd believe. As far as I knew, I was the only cutter in Volterra. But we usually kept it a secret, I had no choice in the matter though. My mom didn't offer to take me to a therapist or anything, I think she was happy she'd finally drove me crazy.

Anyway, getting back to the thing at hand, Heath pounded on my door, telling me I would pay for what I did. He'd probably tell my step-dad, he'd beat me senseless, and then I would cut myself. It was an endless cycle that I wish would already end. But I knew my family was ready for me to kill myself, I could tell by the way they looked at me for crying out loud! But I didn't want to give in to my family's desires. I wanted to prove to them I could get out of this, I only had four more years to put up with this agony and I would be out of the house. But four years passed slowly around here…

Heath finally gave up on beating on my door. Deeming it safe enough to change, I pulled off my uniform and put on my favorite skinny jeans and A Day to Remember band t-shirt. I did my homework, it was easy as always. Don't laugh but I was a total nerd when it came to school, even though I hated it. It just came naturally to me, I guess. I was even taking advanced English classes (A/N: Remember, she lives in Italy, so she speaks Italian…) Having nothing else to do, I grabbed my skateboard and walked downstairs. Alexia was at home now, she and Heath making out passionately on the couch. He made me sick, they both did. Rolling my eyes at their actions, I walked out the door. The beauty of the outside world made me smile; I loved Volterra. The only problem was that it was my personal hell, does that make sense? Anyway, I jumped onto my skateboard and made my way over to my favorite spot in Volterra, St. Marcus Square. It was full of people, they were going about their perfect daily lives, completely regardless to the actual real-life problems in this world.

I had some time before the rest of my actual family got home and I was forced to eat dinner with them. It was what "perfect families" are "expected'' to do, or at least my evil mom would say so. Pulling out my iPod, it chose a song at random. My Life for Hire by A Day to Remember came on. It was funny how my iPod always chose songs that fit my mood, I was almost to the point of thinking that it was magic. I just listened to my iPod for the next hour, not paying attention to anything around me. I tried to relax before I would have to go home and face torture, getting out of the house was my only escape. I could tell by the position of the sun that it was time for me to go home, it was about a fist (held up to the horizon) away from setting. You're probably wondering why I went home at all, but I knew I would get beat even more if I didn't show up for dinner, so home I went.

Arriving at home, I opened the door to smell herb-loaded Italian food. Most people would die to eat like that every night, me on the other hand, preferred Chinese take out. My mom gave me a disgusted look and I ran up the stairs to my room, skateboard in tow. Dinner was always promptly served at eight, it was like clock-work. Right as I put my skateboard down, my clock said 8:00, so I reluctantly went down the stairs. My family was waiting at the dining room table, food piled high on nice, neat platters. My mom just loved putting on shows when we had guests, even if it was just Heath. The only spot for me to sit was right next to Heath, oh joy, so I sat down. Everyone looked at me in an annoyed way, like just my presence in the room irked them. Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes, Alejandro recited grace. Me, on the other hand, didn't pray to thank God for my meal. I prayed that God would send some relief my way, so I didn't have to live like this anymore. I was a firm believer in God and I knew that some day God would answer my prayers, but little did I know that that relief would come soon.

We went on eating dinner after that, my family discussing their oh so wonderful lives, never once asking me anything. Heath kept on glancing at me, like he was going to do something to me. His sock-clothed foot (we weren't allowed to wear shoes in the house…) rubbed against mine and I flinched, hoping he only did it on accident. But he kept on doing that, I guess he was trying to play footsy. I clearly didn't like that and kicked his foot under the table, causing something on the table to spill and Heath to jump up and shout a cussword. The whole world seemed to stop a minute, I knew I was in major trouble, everything HAD to be perfect in my family's life and I had just caused another disturbance in that perfection. Alejandro jumped to his feet, a stone-cold look on his face. In an eerie calm voice he said, "Minerva, go to your room, NOW."

All eyes were on me as I got up and walked up the stairs slowly, struggling to breath regularly. I knew what was coming, and I was terrified. When I got to my room I just stood there, my back facing the door way. All too soon I heard my step dad walk up the stairs, shutting my door when he came in. I was struggling not to cry as he approached me. Not wasting any time, he grabbed me by my hair and slammed me into the wall. I gasped. He held me to the wall as he yelled at me, telling me how despicable I was and yadayadayada…. Just get on with the torture I thought. He continued to beat me in any way he could, this was kind of worse than what he normally did. I tried my best not to scream or cry but I did, having to fight to stay under control. I could see the laughter in his eyes every time I would scream in agony, the way he would smile. All I could say was that he was a sick individual, my whole family was. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he left. I crawled over to the door and shut and locked it tightly. Crawling over to the farthest corner away from the door, I circled myself into a protective ball and rocked back and forth. Tears leaked out, I knew I was horrible and everything and I totally deserved this. All the emotional pain was making my head hurt. Going over to my desk, I pulled out the tiny razor blade I kept; it was my savior in my times of need. I had to let the emotional pain out, but in cutting myself I was doing that and punishing myself more; I guess it was a double-edged sword.

Pulling the blade across my skin I sighed, it felt horrible and good at the same time; I didn't get it. I did that a few times and fell better and worse at the same time; my whole life was just so confusing. I layed on my floor for what felt like hours and just stared at the blood trickling down my arm, then wiping it off. Downstairs, I could hear my family laughing over something and it made me sick. I hated them, I had to get out of my house while I could. Grabbing my hoodie I pulled it on and pushed my sleeves up, revealing my fresh cuts. Knowing I'd never get past them from downstairs, I opened my window and peered down. Even thought it was a two story drop, I could climb down by grasping the ivy growing up the side of my house. I scaled down, when my feet hit the soft ground I knew I was free.

Crossing my arms over my chest I walked down the street, going no where in particular. Before I realized it, I was in a park a mile or so from my house. No one else was around, so I sat down on a bench and stared up at the beautiful Volterra stars. I sat there listening to my iPod for what seemed like forever, until I felt someone looking at me. I sat up, looking around to see who else was there. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I really felt like someone was out there. A few seconds later, a cloaked figure stepped out of the woods, his hood off. He was too far off for me to get a good look at, but I could tell he was staring at me. I just stared back, frozen in my seat; terrified to see what happened, the music coming from my iPod in the background of my hearing. Then the figure stepped forward with amazing grace, almost like it was floating. I gasped when he came close enough for me to see, it was the boy I landed on this morning. And he was smiling…

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