Pacifica didn't want to go back home but she didn't know what else to do so she did. She also didn't know how she was going to tell her parents or what they were going to say. She ran all the way home and didn't stop until she got to her front door where she started to have a panic attack.

Should she knock? Should she just walk in? What would her parents say? What would they think? Should she go somewhere else? If so where would she go?

She had no answers for any of these questions and probably wouldn't by just staying there. She might as well go in now.

She opened the front door not knowing what would happen.

Inside everything seemed normal. Her parents were on the couch in the living room. Her mother was looking at herself in one of her many mirrors and her father was reading the newspaper. Neither of them had noticed that she was there. She didn't know what to say or if she should say anything at all.

"Um-I-I'm back."

Her parents looked up from what they were doing. They showed no emotion on their faces.

"Well it's about time," her father said still showing no emotion at all.

"Go get cleaned up," her mother said as she looked back at her mirror. "You look like shit."

She did as her mother said. She went to the bathroom and got her makeup out to freshen up.

She was surprised by their reaction. She was expecting to at the very least get slapped. She should have been happy that she didn't get slapped but for some reason she wasn't. Their reaction scared her. It was unnatural of them. She felt like they were hiding something.

Once she finished cleaning her face and doing her makeup she went back into the living room. She felt like now would be the best time to come out to her parents. They weren't freaking out like they normally did whenever she left the house without telling they. It made her calm but scared at the same time. Like when you are being questioned by a nice cop. You know that you are about to get in trouble but feel safe at the same time.

She sat down on a nearby chair. This was it. This is your shot. Before she could say anything she was interrupted by her mother.

"Nice to see that you finally cleaned up that mess of yours. I guess that is one thing about our children that we can be proud of. She knows how to hide an ugly face."

Ouch. Although it was far from the worst thing that she had said to her it still hurt a little. Her father started talking once his wife stopped.

"So where have you been this whole time? It better not have been hanging out with the riprat you call your friends."

"Well-" she was interrupted by her father before she could answer his question.

"You know what happens if you have been."

"Yes father."

Well that makes sense why then were being so cool. They had no proof that she was hanging out with her middle class friends. Now that she understood why then were acting the way that they were she thought that now was not the best time to come out to them.

"I'm going to go upstairs to my bedroom."

"Ok sweety. Clean up that room of yours. There may still be some broken glass that the butler missed. You have a photo shoot at 7pm by the way so be ready. Your father will reschedule the old ones that you missed for you to be shoot today. You misses five photo shoots when you were gone."

"Yes mother."

She went upstairs to her room and her mother was right. All of her clothes that she had on the floor were cleaned up but all of the glass was still there. It was a very clever punishment of her parents. She knew that her parents had planned it out that way. She had to pick up sharp pieces of glass when the butler got the easy job of taking care of the clothes. Everything seemed to be a lot different then how she left it minus the glass.

Before her room was a mess. It had clothes and broken glass all over the floor. Now there was no clothes on the floor. Her bed was made and on top of it there were five new dresses that she knew were for the photo shoots.

She cleaned up the glass with her bare hands. She got a few cuts on her hands but she brushed it off. They weren't any worse then the ones that she use to have on her wrists. Between being a cutter and being beaten she had learned to handle pain like it was nothing.

She had a first aid kit in her room just in case she cut to deep or if she was slapped too hard. She got it out and started to clean her cuts. She had done this many times so it took almost no time to do so. She choice to also clean her old cuts as well. Although she had been clean for over a month some of the cuts still showed. She didn't want people to see them in photos so she prayed that they would heal soon or that she would be able to cover them up.

Once she finished cleaning and wrapping her cuts she put her new dresses away in the closet and laid down on her bed and fell asleep.