Chapter One

I dread the sound of his key in the lock, I have for the past five years, which is when it all started. My father developed a drinking problem and my mother wouldn't do anything about it. I wasn't an only child, though I was the one that took more backlash from my father, since I was the one who always spoke out at the wrong times. In my family, I was the one who was always at fault, as my father played ruler over the family. I've developed a believable lie for each and every time that someone has asked me about a visible bruise or mark, each time it was a new story and a new lie.

I woke to the smell of whiskey and tobacco, two of my dad's favourite things. I got up and woke my sister, Makena, as we both had school, before sleepily shuffling back to my room. After changing into a white shirt with Just Be You written on it and a pair of jeans, I attempted to curl my hair. While in the process of it, I heard my father's voice booming through the house.

"Braelynn Ann Jones, get down here now!" Quickly, I threw my hair up in a ponytail, forgetting the idea of straightening my hair thismorning, as I ran downstairs sto greet my drunken-hungover father. "Where are my work clothes? I need them, now." He half slurred, his eyes on mine as he spit every word at me.

"They should be in the closet," I said, my voice more hushed than usual. He just glared at me, before walking away. I sighed softly, then returned to my room to put on a small bit of makeup and my shoes.