Girl Gone Bad (18+)

Prologue

Prologue

"She's gone now. She can't hurt you anymore." His warm hand layed over my shaking ones, quickly relaxing me.

"I know." I quivered, gripping the hospital blanket and staring at my feet that sat against my ruined clothes.

"Dad's coming. The doctors gave you an ok to leave. When we get home you need to rest." He says again, stroking my hand with his thumb.

"What are people gonna think of me when we get back to school..I don't want them to pity me." I wipe away the tears on my face.

He sighs, ushering me to scoot over and make some small space for him. Mason looks at me for a moment and places his hand on my thigh. "You don't have to go back to school right away, you know?"

I exhale, nodding my head and resting it on his shoulder. "Yeah..You're right."

Or I could just...never go back.

***
2 weeks later

"You weren't supposed to see that." I breathe heavily, closing the front door behind me. My dad threw his car keys on the small table, rubbing his forehead.

He had just arrived from work when he caught my boyfriend and I banging in the back of my car. I didn't think he would notice since my windows were tinted, but he was going incredibly hard and fast so I guess it made the car move a little. Plus I was loud.

He looked up at me and looked away quickly, "Morgan your shirt."

I looked down and blushed. I quickly buttoned up my blouse and crossed my arms over, and chest. My plaid shirt was a little too high so I pulled it down, and smoothened out the wrinkles. "Sorry, Dad."

"Was that Ronnie Nicholson? The one that just got back from juvie?" His face turned red.

I played with the pink hair clip in the corner of my head, looking down to the side. I heard him sigh heavily and place his hands on the island in the kitchen.

"Gimme your keys." He suddenly says, earning a shocked gasp from me.

"What-"

"Give. Me. Your keys. Now." He glares at me as I stand in the corner of the hallway. Why should I? I didn't even do anything wrong? I was respectful enough not to do it in the house, because Dad didn't like friends from school over. Especially boys.

"No." I frown. His eyebrows go up in surprise, expecting me to obey him. His lips part, and he slightly lowers his head so his big blue eyes stare into my soul.

"Morgan I won't ask you again." He warns.

"Why should I even give them to you?! I didn't do anything wrong!" I stomp my foot on the ground, tightening my fists.

"Don't argue with me!" His voice gets louder.

"Not until you tell me why!" I raise my voice a little higher than his.

"You had intercourse with a boy! That should be good enough!" He shouts again, his face turning red.

"I'm 17, dad! Almost 18!" I glare at him, stepping closer.

"That doesn't--!...That doesn't mean anything." He lowers his voice, probably reminding himself that Mason is upstairs with a friend. Which makes me wonder..

"How come Mason can have people over and I can't?"

He frowns in confusion. "What?"

"Is it because he's a boy..and I'm a girl?" I ask softly.

His eyes soften. "Hey..don't think that. It's just that I don't trust you."

This time I get even more heated. "WHY?"

"Listen, Morgan. I don't wanna do this right now! It's because you're my little girl!"

"I'm not always gonna be you're little girl dad! Where were you when mom was always insulting me? Where were you when she always beat me?!" I scream, pushing my tears away.

He was dead silent now.

I shoved my car keys out of my purse and threw it at him. "Here are my keys you've been dying for." I seethed, hurrying up the stairs and up to my room.

I slammed my door, struggling to lock it and jump on my pink covers. Crying for 5 minutes into my pillow, I sit up from a headache and pull my shirt off. I look into the body mirror across my bed and observe my collarbone.

A tattoo would look good there.

My eyes drift to the white scissors sitting on my work desk in the corner of my room. I barely smirk and I get up, grab the scissors and hurry to the bathroom.

Locking the door behind me, I stare into the mirror with my puffy red eyes. The mascara I had on before was dripping with tears all over my cheeks. I titled my head and looked down at the scissors I forgot I had brought.

Grabbing a handful of my hair, I roughly cut it to shoulder length. I surprised gasp escapes me, turning into a small fit of giggles. I quickly cut the other side and smirk in triumph.

I reach for the makeup wipes in the cabinet and wipe my tears away. I slowly look down at the chair of hear in the sink and all over the counter.

Oh yeah. Dad's gonna kill me.

***

Did I edit the prologue cause it was too short and cringey? Yes.

But does it matter because I'm proud of this one? No.