Warning: Child Abuse/Mentions of Sexual Abuse

Chapter 1: 1983

In the darkness of the mansion, a young girl padded lightly through the halls, careful of the places she stepped and the sounds she made, and glancing into the open doors as she went. Something had awoken her from her sleep before dawn, and it continued long enough for her to gather her courage and follow the sound. Even when she reached the grand staircase and peeked over the edge of the railing to hear laughter and screaming, she stayed silent. She stepped slowly and steadily down the stairs, a surprising amount of grace as her messy hair bobbed as she walked. Timidly, she reached the doorway, a light shone on the inside of the room. Even when the bloodcurdling screams of pain reached her ears, her innocent eyes looked around the corner unceasingly; a man stood with his wand pointed at a young woman. She was curled into a ball as close to the wall as she could get. Three other men laughed with him, standing to his side as they looked down at her. Cuts ran across her body and blood down her face, her naked legs.

There was more screaming, from the woman, before a green light flashed, and the men went quiet for a second before erupting with laughter. The one on the edge stopped, his eyes meeting hers in the doorway. He nudged the one in the middle, who finished buttoning his pants. When the black eyes met hers, she ducked back against the wall, knowing well enough that she had already been caught.

"Get in here." The man growled. Changing her posture, the young girl brushed her hair in front of her face and turned to walk in. She walked around the pale faced woman, only to glance and see glossed over blue eyes wide open in fear, staring but unseeing. The young one continued forward as slowly as she could dare until she was in front of the humongous man who called her. "What'd I tell you 'bout when I got company?"

She stayed silent. Looking down to her feet as the other two fully grown men on either side of him chuckled.

"That's right Bitch-" A clean shove and she tripped over the non-breathing woman falling back onto her behind. Aside from a light grunt when she hit the ground, not a sound came out of her mouth. But the men laughed and pointed their wands at her. "Learn to stay out of the way, Dumbass." There was a collective chant as she was whisked into a world of pain, her body curling in on itself and shaking. Her small teeth bit into her tongue and her fingers cut into the skin of her hands as she struggled to stay quiet. When a second spell was sent her way, she let out a whimper, but nothing more. It seemed longer than it was, but when both the curses were canceled, she was kicked in the stomach, and then in the head. Shaking, she did nothing to resist being lifted by her hair to meet the man's eyes. "Lesson learned you little killer." The three left her on the floor and dragged the other woman by a leg across the room and into another, two disappearing with a pop.

Curled up in a ball, the young girl closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths. Heavy steps walked back into the room, a cold smack echoed as a wash rag landed against the wooden floors in front of her. "Clean up the frickin' blood while you're down there."

Without a verbal or even physical response, the shaking girl uncurled and crawled over to the rag, pressing it against the floor where the pile of blood was, wiping it and putting as much pressure on it as her small body could afford. The light was turned off, the heavy steps receded, and a door up the stairs slammed shut. Nonetheless, the young girl continued to put pressure on the stains to the wooden floor, clumsily standing and walking to the large kitchen to get napkins. Her labor was hard born as she moved across the room to the door and back again to double check for any spots. When she stood, her knees were sore from skidding on the ground, and her weight was almost too much. She stumbled as she went to put things away, barely able to climb the stairs and walk back to her room the way she had come. Though much too small for her, a crib sat in the corner of the room, where she took a blanket from it, and the small pillow, laying it on the ground and closing her own eyes.

Only to be awakened a few hours later with yelling once more.

"Wake the hell up you lazy bitch. You've got chores and shit to do."

Her eyes opened as another kick was delivered to her stomach, and she sat up and forward, eyes widening for a few seconds before she cringed as the breath was knocked out of her.

The man's features with the sun shining through the window were too different from her own, where his eyes consuming black, hers were a stunning emerald. Where his hair was well slipped back and he wore dress robes, her hair was frizzy knot riddled and all over the place and she wore rags practically made from the pillowcases. When his face was spotless, hers was dark and covered with dirt.

"Get to work. I'll be back in an hour and I expect my bed made and food on the table." He watched her carefully as she bowed her body in response. Once satisfied, he walked out of the room and out of the house.

He never came back.

Food sat delicately on the table for the rest of the day, the young girl restraining herself from even taking a bite. She had to have permission. When the moon was up midway through the sky, she walked around the house, the older parts just barely creeping under her bare feet. When she was sure the house was empty, she made her way back to the kitchen, looking at the food she had made for breakfast and putting it over the small fire she had fed for the second half of the day. When it was warm once more, she put a cover over it and left it on the table. Curling back up with her stomach aching from the bruises left and rumbling from hunger and attempting to sleep. The night creped on with no sound, and the young girl closed her eyes.

When she opened them once more, the sun had risen, and the house was quiet. Everything in the kitchen was as she had left it. The bedroom the same, not a sheet out of place. It wasn't the first time she had been left alone in her 6 years. But the pure size of the house was too much for her. She started her work once more in the kitchen, discarding the food into the garbage and beginning another meal from scratch.

Yet, much like the day before. It sat on the table the next morning when she woke up with her stomach cramping from hunger.

By the third day, she had to eat what was still left on the table, no matter how cold it was, and even when she had finished, she knew that the moment the man got home she would be punished. Maybe it was lucky that, even after six days, he never appeared. The young girl had taken to eating the meal the next morning, her small body used to the little amount of food it was given and using the energy to continue to clean the house as she was commanded to every day previous.

For the first time ever though, when she reached for something to make for the 13th day's breakfast, nothing was edible. The labels were all expired, and she knew enough to not make anything from them, putting them in the garbage. By the 23rd day, she couldn't manage to make soup, and the food supplies had been diminished. The front door stayed closed, the house quiet. When she reached the fourth day without food, her body had become so weak that it was difficult for her to even pick some things up or to rearrange the stacks of books in the small library of the house. Her mind screamed protest to most of what she did, and she wasn't sure if the man would ever come back. She'd never stepped outside the front door. Another day passed before her small blanket, not large enough to even cover her body was gripped in her hand, and the front door was unlocked. The sun shone down as it did every day through the windows, the lawn slightly growing a bit longer than usual and the foreboding gate down the drive at the front stayed dark. Lightly, wearing all that she had, the brown-haired girl padded down to the gate and fiddled with the lock, eventually getting it to open.

The mansion she had never left sat behind her, and she made her way down the street, following the sidewalk, something she had only briefly read of. She walked well into the night, before coming to a stop as she saw a small row of buildings. Making her way into the darkness beside a building, she lay and sleep, covering herself as best she could, wrapping her small feet swollen and dirty into her sheet-dress to keep them warm.