Chapter One.

Taina Kelly.

2 Years Earlier

Taina Kelly allowed herself to sink even lower down into her warm bath water. The water swished around a little, relaxing her muscles. She couldn’t remember how many times she had taken these bubble baths after her nightly beatings. 

She held a cigarette between two of her fingers, her right arm hanging over the side of the tub. She brought the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag before slowly exhaling. Flashbacks from her latest beating reminded her to never buy anything without him knowing. All she could see were his angry eyes, all she could feel were the imprints his fingers had left all over her skin. Sometimes she wished he would just drown her in the tub. She didn’t have anything worth living for; No family, no friends, and no money. He had made sure she never had anything.

"What’s taking so fucking long, bitch?” She heard him yelling from their joint bedroom down the hall. “Hurry up and make me dinner.” She didn’t move from her spot for a moment. Taina didn’t want to get up and make him a dinner that she wouldn’t be allowed to eat. She just wanted to soak and smoke away her sorrow.

Taina got out of the tub anyway pulling the stopper out, taking a second to watch as the bubbles drained out of the tub. She envied the bubbles, it was so easy for them to disappear. Most times all she ever wanted to do was disappear.

She dried herself with her towel quickly and slipped on a pair of panties and a cami. Taina walked down the hall to the kitchen and bent over to look into the refrigerator. A gallon of milk, a carton of eggs, a half drunk can of Sprite, sausage, and a few old Lunchables were all that adorned the fridge.

"I guess I’m making breakfast." She murmured to herself. She quickly got to work, cracking the eggs on the edge of the pot and boiling water. She slaved over the stove for the next 20 minutes. Whens she was done she put all of the food onto the plate and took it down the hall to him

"Here." Taina mumbled shortly dropping the plate into his lap.

He snatched her arm up quickly and brought her to his side. 

"You want to try that shit again?" He more so told her than asked.

She picked the plate up from his lap before placing it on the bedside table.

"That’s what I thought. You know better than to try that disrespectful shit with me." She rolled her eyes and walked around to her side of the bed. She climbed into the bed, turning over on her side so she wouldn’t have to face him.

"T…" He trailed off. She closed her eyes and pretended she was asleep.

"Taina." She continued to pretend she couldn’t hear him until she felt herself being snatched up again.

"Oww, oww, oww…" She cried out at the awkward position her arm was in.

"Get your fucking ass up and take this plate to the kitchen!" She scrambled to get the plate and rushed down the hall right after. She had already taken her beating for the night, she didn’t want anymore.

Present Time.

Bree Lovett.

I brushed my long straight jet black hair as the rain landed onto the window pane. It’s been raining nonstop even since the incident. The rain mocked me; every single rain drop reminded me of the bloodshed. I was a murderer. My mother didn’t make anything better. I killed the one man she loved. The man who would kick around her as if she was a stranded puppy. Petty females andtheir feelings. If he hadn’t touched me, he’d still be living. Heh. Bree is so naïve, so weak, she can’t fend for herself. I laughed aloud as the lightning flashed within the dark skies. I sat the brush on my dresser and reached inside its wooden draws. My hand fidgeted around through the pile of panties and bras until it felt its handle. I pulled out the gorgeous piece of artwork, my infamous blade. I loved her. My tongue slid across her polished steel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Marcus mouthed while pulling the belt out of his pants’ loops.

He removed his shirt which revealed his bulky arm muscles and threw it on the floor. The rain drops fitted nicely on his chocolate toned skin, his body made my hormones run wild. My sex life was a total bore, I’ve haven’t been touched in months.

“Do I have to ask you again?”

“No.”

I put the blade back into place and faced him.  

“Then what were you doing with that knife?”

“I was just admiring her.”

“Oh yeah? You weren’t planning on using her, were you?” He whispered into my ear.

His hot breath dwelled on the skin of my neck.

“No.” I murmured.

“Good, I’d hate to fuck your pretty little face up.” He chuckled.

Not if I fuck you up first, you pig.

“Remember I was the one who got you out of trouble.. You owe me, Bree, you promised. You’re my property.” His words trailed off as he left the bedroom.

It was true. He was the one who got me out of trouble and I promised to do everything he wanted me to. I didn’t want to stay in jail, that place gave me the shivers. Marcus was a drug dealer; he was infamous in these streets. Marcus would let me weigh the drugs and put them into tiny zip lock bags. He would then go out to sell them. He didn’t trust too many, but he kept me by his side since I was his little slave.

“Bree! Come here!” Marcus yelled from the kitchen.

My feet paddled against the wooden floor, which made it creak with every step I took. It would be impossible to kill someone in this house. I made my way into the kitchen.

“Come cook this chicken for me.”

His eyes were glued to the middle of my chest. Eh, pig. He would always have chicken for dinner, he didn’t know how to even shop for groceries. I rolled my eyes and nodded. I went to the stove and turned on the fryer. He watched me as I seasoned the chicken and put them in flour. He always watched me, no matter what I did. Trust Issues I suppose. He came from behind me and wrapped his muscular arms around my thin waist.

“Your nipples are hard, why?” He asked nibbling on my earlobe.

I shrugged. “I’m cold?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s it.” He said.

He put his hand under my shirt, squeezed on one of my small breast and fingered my nipple. Even though I stayed with the man, I never thought about having sex with him. I always pictured someone else, but with his body. I removed his hand from my shirt and readjusted my tank top.

“The fryer is ready.” I said.

As I was released from his grip, I laid the pieces of chicken into the hot grease. 

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2 young ladies. 2 different stories. Follow them on their treacherous journey through the vicious cycle we call life. See them as they deal with difficult situations and decisions. Watch them grow from girls to women.
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