Chapter 1

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***

I sit at the table, my eyes probably glazed over, robotically taking bites of the meal I had prepared. After both of the twins violated me I had to go and clean up quickly before Katrina arrived, then I finished preparing dinner. She wouldn't care though, none of them care. I tuned out all of the talking, staring out the window blankly. I heard the word relocation, but there was no longer any part of me that thought my life could improve.

Relocation probably meant another abusive 'family', but I was already used to that, so why should I bother listening? I heard Katrina say my name a few times, but I didn't even bother looking at her until one of Them put on a show and gently tapped on my shoulder, whispering my name. I turn to the woman who put me here, not allowing any emotion to leak onto my face.

"Avianna?" Katrina was trying hard to pretend to be a good Social Worker in front of them, but that was because she was clueless about everything they have done to me. She doesn't really care. "Honey, one of your mom's old friends from college heard about what happened, she wants to adopt you", her voice was coated with a thick layer of sugar. She really wanted to seem competent.

After realizing that I wasn't going to react, she stifled a scoff and continued, "We have approved of the adoption, since you are only 17, and you will be flying to their home in Portland tomorrow. I figure it won't take you too long to pack, right? You don't have anything of importance after all." Katrina was batting her false eyelashes at me, trying to provoke me, but I didn't bother humoring her, I simply stood up and took my dishes to the sink, rinsing them off and loading them into the dishwasher. I should be happy that I am escaping, but I know better than that. You can never escape.

***

As much as I hate to admit, Katrina was right. I have almost nothing important to pack. The only things I own that I care about are my sketchbooks, and my mother's ring, the ring she disrespected. After quickly tucking those and the few clothes I like into a canvas bag, I was done. I got up from my spot on the floor reluctantly and made my way to the bathroom. Packing my toiletries was a little bit more difficult, the makeup alone took up an entire carry-on, but I needed it, nobody was allowed to know. Telling anyone would make me feel too dirty and vulnerable. I left the carry-on on the sink; I would need it in the morning.

After washing off my makeup, showering, and brushing my teeth, I slipped an over-sized t-shirt on, carefully avoiding the bruises that littered my torso. I am not allowed to wear anything but my underwear underneath, as the twins don't like to waste any time. Trudging back over to my room, I laid down on the bed I had slept in for the past six months, a slight sadness washed over me. This bed did not deserve to be left alone, it hadn't done anything wrong! Quickly regaining my sanity, I closed my eyes, forcing sleep to take me.

***

I heard the door open, and I fought the shudder threatening to take over. I would not give Them the pleasure of my reaction. Never again would I let Them know how the violation affects me, They didn't deserve the pleasure of my pain. I feigned sleep as They lifted up my dress, not even stirring when I felt two pairs of hands roaming my bruised stomach. I laid still as They contaminated me over and over again, taking turns. Their grunts fueled my internal rage, but even that quickly fizzled. There was no point in crying over spilled milk. I thanked my lucky stars that they were decent enough to put me on the pill since even in my indifferent state, I wouldn't be able to handle bearing their child.

I fell asleep a few minutes after Their departure, and They didn't leave without a little parting gift. One of them had been smoking the entirety of the night, and before leaving, he put it out on my stomach, I was so numb I couldn't even feel it.

***

I woke up to the harsh shriek of my alarm clock and looked around my bland bedroom for the last time. Rubbing the sleepies out of my eyes, I slowly got out of my bed, stripping off the sheets the twins had tarnished last night. After throwing them into the hamper, I looked in the mirror. The eyes that stared back haunted me, they used to shimmer and sparkle with glee, but now looked tortured and ruined, quickly replacing the emotions with indifference, I throw on the outfit I had set aside the night before.

The black fitted tee and big red jacket covered most of my bruises and burn scars, but what was left exposed is quickly smothered with concealer. Pulling on the high-waist jeans that they purchased for me a month ago, I sigh. I tuck the shirt in and pull the soft fabric of my hoodie close, inhaling the only thing I liked about this house, the smell of lavender. Turning back to the mirror, I stare at the nest on my head and pick the brush up off of the table. Combing through the gnarled mess was never fun, but it seemed especially torturous today. The only thing that really hurts me anymore is my hair. I have always been tender-headed, but it had gotten even worse in comparison to everything I had numbed myself to, which made no sense when I stopped to think about everything I had been subj-. Wait. When did I start ranting?

The rest of my hygiene routine passes by quickly, and I pack up all the the makeup and toiletries, setting them by my door with the rest of my belongings. Slowly but surely, I moved the bags into the hallway, waiting for someone to help me, then I remembered where I was. Nobody was going to help me, nobody cared enough to feed me most of the time, I had to buy and cook everything myself. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the luggage and began to descend the stairs, sighing in relief as I neared the bottom, but then my foot slipped.

Pain shot through my legs, but I quickly ignored it and stood up at lightning speed, taking care to hide my fall from Them. Quickly cleaning up any scattered items, I took the bags to the front door, where Katrina was waiting. Rather impatiently. She was tapping her toe in annoyance, and I think that she was about to begin screaming my name. Checking the hunk of metal and gears on my wrist I nearly rolled my eyes, I was ready half an hour early. As soon as she saw me her scowl deepened, and her brow scrunched together, giving her the appearance of a constipated infant.

"Where have you been, I told you to get here 10 minutes ago!" I held back on correcting her and stifled an eye roll, simply dropping my head down in 'shame'. Gritting my teeth, I followed her through my door, not looking back at my crying 'family'. They should go into theater, I almost believed their sadness, though They are probably upset that they lost their punching bag. As we drive away, for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

***

Thanks for reading the chapter! My goal is one vote, and I would love any feedback Y'all have for me.

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