"Get to work, or else, you little shit!" Frederick yelled at me, as I swept the floor of the large kitchen.

"Yes, Frederick." I answered, trying not to let him see the hot tears forming in my bloodshot eyes. He sat down on one of the chairs to the large table, and crossed his legs. He leaned back, and stared at me in the most monstrous way.

"You know, Mary, I believe you and I have something much more than what your Mother and I had." Frederick smirked, as I looked at his face from my eye lashes.

"How so, Frederick?" I asked in a monotone voice, making sure no emotion slipped through the cracks.

"Well, your Mother was always a fighter. You, you're so, easy." And smiled, staring at my breast again, "Right, Mary?" Venom dripping from his voice, making me want to die.

"Y-yes, Frederick." I knew the drill, answer the way he wants you to answer and nothing bad will happen.

"Mary, stop with the sweeping and come here." I leaned the broom against the table and went to stand in front of him. He looked me up and down, all he saw was brown shreds of clothing, hanging loosely to my figure, which was unhealthy skinny. "Now, now, come sit on your fathers lap." He patted his thighs, and I sat down slowly. "Much better," He mused. His hands sliding up and down my thighs then moved it to my stomach. His fingers danced up my ribs and began caressing my breasts.

"Um, Frederick."

"Daddy." He corrected. I bit my lip, but, there was nothing I could do.

"D-daddy?" I said.

"Yes?"

"Could you please stop?"

"Anything for you, sweetheart." I shuddered as I stood up, and he stood up, towering over me. "Now, go to bed, and I'll, ah, some and say goodnight to you later." He winked, and left the room, as I waited for a moment.

Then, I fled, to the little shack I called home.

I have pictures of my Mom and me together. Some are a little beat up, but most are just perfect. I miss her so much. Before Frederick comes, I decided to get some things together, old pictures, memories, and clothes.

Because, I can't stand this any longer. My pile is filled with three pencils, a book, and some paper. I tie up all the belongings and throw them into a barrel and go and lie in the haystacks I call a bed. Right outside the window, I hear footsteps belonging to two people. I look outside the window, it's not Alec. It's another man.

His face looks gentle and serene. He has blonde hair, gelled back into a nice style, and he is dressed nicely. All in all, he looks like a nice man, but I wonder why he's with Frederick. As they near the window, Frederick's back is to me, and I hear what the men are saying.

"Frederick, I'm sorry, but you need to pay what you owe."

"I'm telling you, Mr. Cullen, I do not owe anything." Mr. Cullen. What a beautiful name. Cullen.

Mr. Cullen notices me in the window, and waves gently towards me. Frederick turns around, and comes into the shack, and grabs me by my hair and drags me over.

"How about this!" He throws me on the ground next to Mr. Cullen, who helps me stand up.

"I'm sorry; sir, but I don't appreciate child abuse." Mr. Cullen says to Frederick, who is now boiling over in anger. Mr. Cullen nods his head to me and starts walking back to a beautiful horse, with a shiny mane, and beautiful coat.

Frederick turns to me, and starts kicking my legs until I'm down on the ground. "You snotty little bitch! You are just like your mother! I should have gotten rid of you!"

He picks me up, and throws me back into the shack, I watch him, huffing back to the house.

This is it, I tell myself.

This is my time.

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