Prologue

"Leave me alone!" a 17 year old raven-haired girl yelled. Her door slammed and the clicking sound of her lock could be heard. Samantha Manson leaned against her door and slid to the ground. Her knees propped up in front of her. She let loose a sigh as she looked across her room to the window. It was raining. The consistent sound of raindrops hitting the roof and her windowpane brought on a comforting silence to her lonely and otherwise depressing surroundings. Closing her eyes to enjoy this rare moment of contentment. She cleared her mind of all thoughts. Giving it a brake from the harshness of the world around her.

"Samantha Manson get your ass down here now!" A shrill voice ripped through her blank mind. She stood up and brushed down her black skirt. She watched as the deep purple strips within it straighten themselves to their usual plaid pattern. She looked to her left and at her reflection in the mirror. Sam's short sleeved black shirt had two parallel deep purple stripes on each side that flared at the bottom, starting from her arm pits and going down. She wore semi baggy jeans dark in color, almost an off set blackish gray. That pooled at her feet where she was wearing purple socks. Her skirt was over the jeans.

She had on black eye liner with black mascara, which highlighted her big amethyst eyes and made them stand out even more. As well as some light purple lipstick that lightly graced her lips. And her shoulder length hair was up in a half ponytail. The black outfit she dawned contradicted well with her pale skin. Sam took in a deep breath still looking at her reflection. Her mind seemed to wander from the currant situation as she watched herself. Was that really her? She was staring at herself, yes, this she knew. But was she really standing there or was she the watcher within the mirror? She often looked at her self in the third person. Not really believing she was in fact there, but instead watching from far away as things took place.

But standing there with a mirror in front of her was some how different. It was hard to tell which one she was. How often people had acted like she was not there. Not even bothering to notice that she was standing right in front of them as they spoke badly about her or spread rumors about her and her individuality. No one talked to her, and barely anyone spared her a fleeting look. Not even a curious glance from those that have never seen her before. She didn't have friends and she didn't need them. Everyone she had met was fake so she'd ignore them and what they thought.

And yet depression was creeping up on her.

To them she was invisible and so, slowly she saw herself disappearing, slipping away. Turning into exactly what they made her feel like, until she completely vanished.

"Samantha Manson you get you unappreciative ass down here now!" she was ripped once again from her thoughts by her mothers furious yelling. With one last glance at the mirror and one last claming breath, she was out the door and heading down the stairs. Her mother was waiting for her at the bottom. Tapping her foot impatiently, a snarl was worked into her mother's face. Sam stopped halfway down the stares to observe her mother. Mrs. Manson's eyes were red and puffy from long shed tears, and shown with hate at her daughter, locking right onto Sam's amethyst ones. "What the hell is your problem!"

"…" Sam remained silent, unsure of how to approach the situation. She could smell the alcohol, and her mother looked pissed about something, but what Sam wasn't sure of.

"You hate me don't you!" it was more of a statement than a question. But it took Sam a minute to process what she had said before she tartly replied back in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes I hate you" But then she started to reason in a much softer and sincere tone. "No mom I don't hate you, would you stop using that excuse it's – "

"Shut up! Just shut up! You never listen to me. You're always running off to be alone. Why don't you be normal for once! And stop with all this Goth bull shit! Iv told you a hundred times I do not approve so you can not walk around in public like that!"

"Mom – " Sam started to reason again but was quickly cut off.

"You always ignore me and you never take my advice, when clearly it is the right one!"

"Mom – "

"Going off into your own little world all the time. Making me worry about your constant state of mind. How dare you put me through that! Don't you remember what the doctor said its not healthy to be alone. And…" Mrs. Manson was staring to get hysterical.

"Mom! I don't listen to you?" Sam's voice began to rise. "You don't listen to me. You've been cutting me off for the past 8 minutes. And I – "

"What are you talking about. I am a good mother"

"I never said – "

"Why do you do this to me! You purposely do this just to hurt me don't you! Oh why do you hate me! What have I done wrong!" Her mother was crying again, looking to the side so she didn't have to look at her daughter. All of her mixed up emotions over riding her state of mind.

"Well if you'd just let me tal – " But she was cut off once again as her mothers head snapped back towards her.

"Well I'll show you!" Her mother began shaking with furry loosing her self in the confusion of all the emotions and alcohol in her system.

"Mom!" Sam yelled trying to snap some control back into the older woman before her. But some how deep inside she new there was no stopping the her now.

"Listen you! – " Sam turned on her heels and started walking back up the stairs. "Don't you turn your back on me Samantha Manson." She rounded the corner. " Samantha!" And swiftly entered her room. Slamming the door behind her. "I'm not finished with you yet!"

Sam could hear the sound of her mother stomping up the stairs, through her closed door. She locked her door and leaned her back up against it. Her heart began to beat faster. She was beginning to hear it beating in her ears. Leaning her head against the door she held her breath as she listened. It had become awfully quiet.

Then like a pin dropping in a silent crowd, she heard the clicking sound that signaled her door had been unlocked. Panic flooded her whole being and she pressed her body even more against the door, putting all of her weight on it and digging her feet into the soft carpet of her floor. She felt the door being nudged open just slightly and after a few tries the pressure increased. Only to stop a minute later. Time seemed to stand still. 1 minute passed then 5, with out much happening. But Sam was unwilling to move. Something just didn't seem right.

Was that all her mom was going to do? That wasn't like her mother at all.

Sam was then caught off guard when she felt a tremendous force pushing on the door accompanied with a loud thump. Like something was being slammed against her door. She felt it again and heard the noise that accompanied it. It was then that she realized her mother was ramming the door. Throwing all of her weight against it, in order to get within.

Sam dug her feet into the carpet and braced herself for another impact. She felt the force and heard the sound of her mother hitting the door once again. This time it almost sent her forward. But before she could regain her full balance again, the door was thrown forward. Knocking her down on all fours. Sam scrambled away and turned herself over. So that she was in a way sitting on the floor, she was holding her self up with her arms, her legs bent in front of her. Sam looked up at her mother and proceeded to crawl backwards when she saw just how insane her mother looked.

Terror filled amethyst eyes met crazed brown. Sam could feel herself shaking. She looked over her mothers ridged form. And in her hand she held a big black leather belt. Mrs. Manson took a step forward, raising the hand that held the belt. And her daughter physically cringed.

"Now I'll show you true manners. You should never turn you back on your mother when she is talking to you Samantha. It is rude." Her mother took another step. Coming closer. "And this will teach you not to purposely hurt your mother!" Sam braced herself as the first hit struck.