Hidden in the attic (Interracial) (BWWM)

Prologue

Hidden in The Attic

By: Asalynn P.

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Prologue

^her parents
Kiera's POV

Everything in my life was going great. I was extremely popular, got good grades and had a wonderful family.

That is, until my parents died.

Being the only child, I felt alone.

Of course I wasn't really alone my parents each had tons of siblings, which had many children. There was always going to be, someone who could take care of me and help me through this tragic time. All of my aunts and uncles wanted to be there, but just for one reason.

The money.

After the reading of the will, I inherited every penny of my parent's wealth. And just so you know my parents were milionaries. In fact close to being bilionaries. My dad being very successful in business, and mom becoming one of the world's top models and fashion designers was the main reason of their success. I however found no value in money. Ofcourse I liked being pampered, but still I couldn't have cared less. I appreciated it, but found no need for it all. I liked being with people with nature.

Even with my parent's major wealth, we were all very close. So it took a huge toll on me, when they died.

Such a toll that I ran away.

I took my credit card, my phone, and a duffel bag full of my clothing, hair essentials and just some feminine stuff. I rode out of the my mansion, which now looked like a haunted house, abandoned by all the owners.

I don't know what I was running from. Was it my aunts and uncles who would only love me for the money included; or, was it the memories of being with my parents? Whatever is was I needed a new start, a new life.

Being a wealthy sixteen girl, I was a clueless and unafraid. I was given nothing to fear. My father made sure that I was ignorant of how bad people could actually be.

I was brave and I showed it. I knew that people did what I said just because I was rich. Because I was attractive.

Sadly, my looks would not help me. In fact they did the opposite. I might as well have been wearing a "kidnap me" sign.

With my long wavy auburn hair, golden brown skin, and light brown hazel eyes, I could be persuasive. But it was not only my face and hair that could attract you.

I knew guys wanted me for my body. I had a pair of D's and the stereotypical bottom of my race. I was proud of my body, and definitely not shy. My waist was not super small but medium. My curves flared out creating an hourglass figure. I was short, kind of petite looking. It was what had the boys running towards me, I looked innocent but still very tempting .

After my first crucial breakup at 15 I just stopped caring. If I cared, I would have had my heart broken hundreds of times.

Even if I didn't like someone, they still wanted me. They couldn't say no to me.

I always got what I wanted. And it always wound up hurting someone after words. It is something I'm not proud of.

Overtime there was a wall. A wall which I thought could never be broken down.

But that wall I had built, crumbled when my parents died. Both dead by a drunk driver one late Friday night.

That night, I knew something was wrong. I felt it in the air. The sun just didn't shine that day. It was cloudy and everything was gray. My smile fading away into a frown outlined with sour tears.
I got a call at 11:43pm.
It was a solemn voice telling me they were with the local police department.

He told me slowly about that night.
I..I.. couldn't believe him. He had to be kidding. My parents always go driving late at night, they never got into an accident before. They always have fun, or atleast finish up something at work. how could this had happened
Maybe it was just a trick.
When a couple of officers came to my house, I realized that this situation was serious.

The whole night I cried.

I felt like I was dying.

Everything bothered me.

I couldn't stand being around people. I couldn't even be with my family, as they only reminded me of them. I couldn't even take being in my house, flooded with memories that I won't be able to make any more.

So that night I made a rash decision to run away. Only at the age of sixteen. And in result, I was taken.

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Should I continue?

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We will meet Cyrus in chapter Three.