Prologue

D ark. Cold. Alone.

The screams outside of my dark, little hideaway are far worse than they have been in the past. Glass is shattering across the floor, and things are being thrown around. My parents have never really had the best relationship for as long as I can remember. My panic attacks have been out of control and I had started acting out in school. I never understood why this all affected me, but now at the age of twelve, I'm starting to understand more and fear that things are not going to end well.

Today, the issue started before I even got home from school. As I walked in the door, my parents were already screaming at each other and I could tell that my father was already drunk by the way he was slurring his words. I walked into the living room of the trashed trailer, trying to ignore it. The picture frames were torn from the wall and the old TV we had was smashed on the floor. Dripping from the small coffee table was what looked like a red sticky substance. Putting my finger through the liquid, I realize that it's blood. That's when I decided that I just needed to hide. Rushing towards the back of the trailer, I pushed the bathroom door open and locked myself inside, crawling into the small compartment underneath the sink. I can hear all of the awful things my father tells my mother.

The screaming continues and I start to panic. Trying to distract myself, I go through my breathing exercises to stop myself from crying. I sit in the dark cabinet in the bathroom, cradling my head in an attempt to calm myself. My heart is pounding and my body shakes in fear. I sit there, thinking of what it would be like to grow up as a normal child, for what feels like hours before everything goes silent. Building up my courage to crawl out of my hiding spot, I unlock and open the door and walk out of the bathroom to see my father slamming the trailer door shut as he stomps outside with a knife in his hand.

Walking back to the kitchen, all I see is shattered glass and that red liquid splattered all over the place. I tiptoe around, trying to avoid the broken pieces on the floor, until I get to my parents bedroom. The door is slightly cracked, so I push it open all the way and step inside. I gasp when I see my mother lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, with her throat sliced, and insides pulled from the hole in her stomach. I fall to my knees beside her with tears streaming down my face. Numb is all I feel. Alone, scared and it's times like these that I wished I had a sibling, someone to lean on, but I don't. I'm all alone.

Jolting out of bed, I rip the blankets off. Cold sweat drips down my body from the nightmare as tears continue to stream down my cheeks. It takes a couple minutes before I'm able to regulate my breathing and slow my racing heart. The same nightmare happens again and again, and has been for the past thirteen years. Every time I feel more numb than before. Getting out of bed, I pull the sheets off the mattress and put them in a basket, replacing them with a clean set.

I feel disgusting and decide to shower. Turning the water to the coldest setting, I grab a towel from the closet and put a new head on my razor. I undress and step in, the freezing water cascades down my body, making my teeth chatter. Taking my time, I try to calm myself down and focus on the task at hand. I wash my hair, then condition, making sure to comb the product through. I choose to use my pumpkin and vanilla scented body wash and slowly lather it over my body. I shave all of the necessary areas and turn the water off. Stepping out, I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and lotion my body, ensuring everything is smooth.

A couple of hours later, I'm getting dressed in my usual attire of ripped jeans and a corset top. My makeup is simple and my hair is up in a ponytail. At least it's Friday and I will have no responsibilities tomorrow, so I can drink my problems away for the night. As I'm putting on my necklace and hoops in my ears, my best friend, Leighton, comes into my room to let me know the Uber has arrived. Thank God we are going out tonight. I need this distraction.

Arriving at the local bar, my first priority is getting a drink, but I decided tonight is the night that I will just get drunk on shots and save some money while I'm at it. I head to the bar immediately, ordering two shots of tequila. Shooting them back, the burn down my throat is a relief from the fire I feel inside. The bass rolls over my skin and my vision blurs as the liquor settles in my belly. The small space is packed with people and workers. In between shots, we dance in the middle of the bar belting out our favorite songs. Shot after shot after shot, until finally my body goes numb and I blackout. Free of these memories at last.