Everything Has Changed

Prologue Part One: Eight Months Ago

Prologue Part One: Eight Months Ago

I tiptoe down the staircase to the living room, hoping not to be noticed. Mom is sleeping on the couch and I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I wake her up on my trip to get water from the kitchen, she's going to beat my ass.

Literally.

With hands in fists, I walk expertly across the floorboards to avoid the ones that creak.

I reach the tile in the kitchen safely and I look back at the couch to see her still sleeping. Her snores are loud and that's the only thing keeping me from running back to my room and locking the door.

I pull open the cabinet as slowly and quietly as I can and grab a glass.

It's three in the afternoon. I shouldn't have to tiptoe around the house like this.

Bitter, I carefully press the trigger on the fridge and watch as the water pours into my glass. Mom's snores don't falter once and I mentally thank god as I tiptoe back to the cabinet I opened to shut it carefully.

It shuts softly and I head back to my bedroom, but my foot hits a loose floorboard and it groans under my weight, and Mom's snoring stops.

I freeze, clenching my hands around my glass of water. She stirs in her sleep and then sits up quickly.

Without even looking around for the source of the sound, her head whips around and her angry brown eyes lock on me.

Her lips curl into a snarl.

"What have I told you about waking me up?!" She roars.

"I was just getting water!" I defend myself. My hand holding the glass of water starts to tremble slightly and some water sloshes over the edge and onto the perfectly polish wood floor.

"You fucking bitch! The maid just came through here!"

The maid was here six days ago.

"Mom-"

She charges at me, slamming me against the wall. The glass of water in my hand falls to the floor and shatters. I feel her hand connect with my cheek while the other one presses across my throat, pinning me to the wall. I open my mouth to scream for help but no sound comes out.

How can I scream when she's choking me?

I try to struggle but she presses her arm harder against my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for me to pass out, just like I did when Dad was at work two weeks ago.

But he doesn't know about that. If he does, he might kill her.

But suddenly I can breathe again and I feel another set of hands on my shoulder, much gentler hands.

"Gracelyn, please go up to your room and call a friend so you can stay the night there."

My Dad's gentle green eyes peer into mine. His eyebrow is furrowed in worry, but his eyes are a few shades darker out of anger.

My hand rests against the hollow of my throat and tears burn in my eyes.

"Okay?" Dad asks.

I nod rapidly and dart up the stairs. My feet press against the glass from my water and I ignore the pain at it sears into my foot.

I run into my room and grab a backpack, shoving a pair of pajamas, my hairbrush, toothbrush, deodorant, a set of day clothes, and my phone charger into it.

I grab my phone and text Amber.

Me: I'm sleeping over I need somewhere to stay

Amber: k