Caught Up

Ch. 1

4 years ago I would have never expected to be where I am right now. In a dark, empty room, tied to a chair with a knife to my throat. Of course it wasn't my own actions that got me here, but I'm getting to far ahead of myself. Let's start from the beginning.

My father wasn't always so closed minded, as a matter of fact, years ago he was a joy to be around. He would always crack a joke in the worst situation, making his family smile. You would never see that man without a grin on his face. That was until my mother died in cold blood of course. I was 13 years old when she was taken and beat to death by a group of men while coming home from buying us groceries. Ever since then something sparked in my father and he wanted to change the world for the better.

After hard work and ambition he eventually was elected as president of the United States. At first it was good. he was fighting for the right things. Not only justice for women and their rights, but also gay rights, Black lives, and everything in between. However, somewhere along the way I think he forgot about what he was fighting for. The country quickly fell to its feet. Wars began to take place, taxes became unbearable for the poor, and crime rates raised excessively, as well as death. It was as if he didn't care anymore unless it was affecting him.

It was a Monday morning. The sun peaked through my window, causing me to let out a soft groan. I put my hand over my eyes to block out the sun just for my phone to ring. I groggily reach over to grab it.

Dad is calling..

I sigh and answer it, already knowing what he's going to say.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm not going to be home tonight. Things are crazy right now. Those crazy thugs and looters are tearing down our cities and buildings!"

I roll my eyes and kick the covers off from my body.

Ever since another innocent black life was taken a few days ago there has been a protest for the movement "black lives matter." What was a peaceful protest quickly turned into a riot due to police getting violent with the protesters. Cities were burned down, big and small businesses as well.

"How about instead of sitting back and calling them names you actually help them.. help them have a voice." I murmur, upset with my dads words.

"Oh I will help them! By giving them a warning that they are going to get shot if they continue the violent behavior." He exclaims, his voice evidently frustrated with my defense.

"Well they are getting shot regardless." I trail off, "You know what, I really can't deal with this right now. I have school."

Before he can say anything else I hang up the phone. Times like this I wish that my dad never caught caught up in the power.

Originally, when my dad started running for president I started homeschooling. Eventually I figured out that wasn't for me and practically begged to go back to public school with my friends. Yeah, big mistake. The thing with politics is that people will always have an opinion and even though I am not my father, people associate me with his actions. The friends I once had were long gone and the ones I did have simply wanted me for only money or was obsessed with my father like some lost puppies who will only listen to their owner.

That doesn't include Collin. Collin reyes is my childhood best friend. He was there for me when I lost my mother and he is still here when I lost my father to power and money.

Before getting dressed I stare at myself in the mirror, examining my body. I trace my fingers across my prominent collarbones and turn to the side, examining my petite figure. I notice that my dark black hair now reaches to my butt. I notice how my pale skin creates a more prominent natural blush around my face and body.