Purple and blue bruises litter my arms and back like a distasteful watercolour painting. I sigh, dad had been out drinking last night, gambling, as per usual. He lost so the only way he let his anger out, was on me. I have the scars, trauma and bruises to prove it.

Pulling the black hoodie over my turtleneck I place a crap ton of concealer on my cheek. Dad slapped me hard last night, at least he's passed out now. I won't have to deal with any more of his torment until I come home. Maybe if I'm lucky, he will have left for the casino by then.

I grab my textbooks off of my desk and shove them into my black school bag. I'm already 18 as I had been held back because of the issues with my father and my grandparents passing. Looking at the clock I realise it's 7:55, school starts at 8:10 and I haven't eaten. I walk to school since I can't afford a car and the walk takes exactly fifteen minutes if I speed walk.

Running down the stairs I throw my bag over my back and rummage through the cupboard, looking for something to eat. It seems that I'll have to go grocery shopping after my self defence classes since the only item available for me to eat is a granola bar a month past it's used by date. Well it's either this or starve again. So I'll take my chances.

I've been taking self defence classes since I was old enough to apply. My dads been beating me since I could remember. He was very sly about it when I was younger. A lot of emotional manipulation went into play. You'd think with all the self defence classes I would defend myself against my father, which I do, too a certain extent. I make sure he doesn't hurt me to the point where I'm on the brink of death.

I know it's foolish. I should go to the police but I can't do that to him. He's been depressed ever since my mother died and gave birth to me, he blames me for her death and after hearing that for over half my life, it's hard not to believe. My dads parents took me in and looked after me for the first seven years of my life but they both passed away in a car accident, leaving me with my father. I'm well aware that my life sounds like one of those cliche movies. In fact, I wish it were, then I would proceed to find my Prince Charming. But let's be real, in this world there are no princes, just men wanting to get into your pants with or without your permission.

It's October thankfully so I can easily wear layers without anyone questioning me. It was hard last year in summer. Dad had a particularly bad month, so I had to learn how to cover the bruises without drawing eyes. It normally involves colour corrector and a lot of concealer. I've had to create a budget for purchasing makeup.

I walk down the concrete path, listening to my Walmart shoes tap against the pavement. Autumn leaves crunch under my feet, providing me with a sense of comfort, I hold back my want to jump on them as I'm already running late.

I continue with my fast pace until the large building of my school comes into view, along with a string of judgemental teenagers. I, myself, am not all that popular. I don't have any friends and I don't want too. I prefer my own company to others. That way no one can hurt you worse than a physical punch as I have no emotional attachment.

I shove past the crowds of teens, littered throughout the hallways. I hate the people here but in all honesty I do enjoy school. Only the academic part, the people make me want to die. Libby's the worst of them, the queen B which most schools seem to have. She loves to bully me. I try not to give her the light of day but I've ended up in the principals office once before for slapping her.

Home rooms my first class. I just sit there and stare out the window imagining that my life's better than it is. After creating fascinating scenario's in my head, I head to English. I enjoy English a lot. I feel like I can express my emotions through my writing. Or trauma dump. I just don't make it so obvious that they send social services to my home. "Miss Roads, care to answer question A?" I look up at the old man who's teaching us. He's useless really. I've had to teach myself because he spends most of his time staring at his computer screen probably looking at explicit sites. He's definitely a pervert.

Seriously this man is always checking out the girls in their short skirts and I swear to god I heard a small moan come from his computer. Anyway, he hates me because I refuse to answer any of his questions.

I'm a very anxious person and rightfully so considering how I get treated.

"Miss Roads?" Creepy creeperson asks again.

On any normal day I'd tell ignore the man till he moved on but today my patience is non existent.

"Y-you clearly understand t-that I don't like answering the q-questions so would you just leave me the fuck a-alone?" I didn't mean to curse. It just slipped out. I swear. My stuttering kind of ruined the effect of my little outburst.

"Miss Roads, principals office. NOW." Looking down at the dirty floor I grab my bag and head down the hall to the principals office. I think his sudden outburst was a little uncalled for though.

The office lady sent me right in where my principal Mr Mathew's sat in his overly large desk chair, glasses on the bridge of his nose looking down at what I assume are reports?

"Ahh Miss Roads, welcome back." Yes, I've spent my fair share of time in this room. Unfortunately.

"Mr M-Mathew's." I mumble taking a seat across from his desk, my head hung low.

"So, swearing at a teacher. What caused you to do such a thing?"

I sat there refusing to answer him. If I did, I'm sure something else that I shouldn't say would come out and they'd end up calling my dad. Which ultimately is the last thing I'd ever want.

"Alright, if your unwilling to answer the question. You'll be spending the rest of your morning here. It's such a shame Miss Roads. You're a smart young woman and have so much potential." I hate when adults do that. The whole oh my god you're just such an amazing person who has so much potential but why did you have to act in such a way? Just being in here I can feel the nerves in my stomach twisting although it's still better than the alternative.

I spent almost two hours in his office, I'm not sure why he felt the need to keep me in here for so long. I knew he tried to call my dad but thank the lord he didn't pick up. Most likely sleeping off his hangover.

I was finally allowed to leave. Before heading to my social studies class I stopped by the vending machine and got myself a sprite with the money I took from the principals desk while he was on the phone. I feel like I deserve a treat, plus, if I'm already late to class why rush? I'll still be reprimanded for my absence.

My social studies teacher is my favourite. He's the sweetest old man. Mr Davis. He's pretty chill. He's not strict on me since I always get the good grades. He's tried before to get me to speak up in class or share my analysis but I think he's finally come to the conclusion that no matter what he does I can't.

Once my sprite is in my hands I pop the tab and take a swig. The cool liquid hits my tongue and immediately I feel better. Walking up the stairs onto the second floor and down the left hallway I open the door to his class.

Mr Davis throws a small smile my way as I enter and make my way to my seat. He continues teaching the class while I sit at the back of the class sipping away at my drink.

Mr Davis sets us some work in our textbooks, bringing my focus away from daydreaming and back to my actual school work.

A pencil hits my forehead. Glaring at the pencil I pick it up off my desk and look to whoever the culprit is.

Just my luck. Jake. Libby's boyfriend. Shooting daggers at him with my eyes, I throw the pencil back at him while he has an annoying smile on his face.

"W-What?" I whisper shout at him.

"Wanna come over to mine later?" He doesn't even bother to whisper for the benefit of the teacher or the kids who are trying to learn! Mind you, I may be the only one who's actually trying to learn.

"W-Why would I do that?" We've never b-been friends?" Sure he throws a few flirty comments my way which I don't appreciate. But he has a girlfriend and as much as I hate her, I won't be a part of a cheating scandal within the school.

"I'm throwing a party. I know it's not your scene but you should still drop by, even if it's for five minutes."

"No."

"Please."

"N-No."

"Come on, for me?" He begs.

"No." He sighs.

"Well it's no longer your choice, I'm coming to your house at 8 tonight and I'll pick you up."

My dad, he can't see Jake or he'll flip the out and we all know who's his punching bag.

"F-Fine! I'll come. B-But don't you dare come to my house. I'll make my own way there."

A Victorious smile overtakes his features. "Fantastic! I'll see you there!"

I roll my eyes at him as the door to our class slams open. Two men, dressed in all black storm into the room.

What the... wrong universe guys. This ain't men in black

Mr Davis moves from his desk to question the men but one of them hits him on the head with, a gun? Oh shit! I can swear, the man has a gun! I watch as my favourite teachers body falls to the floor.

Immediately everyone begins to panic, the guy who previously shoved the butt of his gun on our teachers head fires a shot near me, breaking the window. Now what the actual fuck! He could've shot me! But he did manage to shut everyone up. We all sat at our desks unmoving just like our teacher, except the poor man's unconscious on the floor.

The right man, the one who's done nothing but stand there the entire time speaks up. His voice is deep and unnerving. "WHERE IS SCARLETT ROADS??!"

I didn't expect him to shout but hey! Wait. That's me! Why me? What did I do? Everyone points to me, my eyes widen. What snitches. Y'all are going to end up in some serious ditches after this!

The two make there way to the back of the class. I stand reaching for the window. I'd rather be dead than be taken by these too. While I'm fiddling with the window latch, the guy on the left wraps his arms around my waist yanking me back. "LET ME GO YOU PSYCHO!!" I scream. Hey! I didn't stutter, that's an improvement.

Self defence. I know self defence! Guess it's time to put that skill in use. Since the idiot has both arms around my waist I ram my elbow into his nose I hear a nice crack and his arms unwind from my torso. He clutched his nose while I kick the other guy who's looking at his partner as hard as I can in the balls. He falls to the ground clutching his dick. Ouch. Shouldn't have tried to put your hands on me buddy!

I take the opportunity to grab his discarded gun and shoot them both in the leg. I was aiming for their stomachs but it did the job. Shootings fun! Kind of like a game. I don't actually know how to work a gun so it's helpful that it was loaded and ready.

Both men are on the ground clutching their legs in pain. I don't even spare them a glance as I step over the two. I'm ready to begin running but stop abruptly as a man, an oddly attractive man wearing black slacks, dress shoes and a matching button up stands in the doorway with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his shirt are wound up to just below his elbows, showcasing the many tattoos that stop only at the top of his neck. His dark blue eyes pierce mine and his black hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

He straightens up "now, now, Principessa, why don't you hand the gun over hm?" Dam his voice is deep, why is it so sexy? No! No! I will not think about this man like that.

My voice wavers as I try to speak

"W-Who are y-you?"

"Dante Romano." A collective round of gasps echo throughout the room. Everyone knows that name. He owns New York. The Italian mafia leader is standing in front of my right now. I'm so going to die. At least it'll be a cool story. How many people get to say they got murdered by the mafia!... probably many actually.

My anxiety levels are through the roof right now but I do my best to push it down. "W-What are y-you doing here?"

"I'm here for you of course."

"W-Why?"

"You're father refused to pay back my money so I killed him and in exchange I'm taking you." He says that so casually I'm not sure I heard him right. Not to mention the fact that we are currently in class, with twenty or thirty odd students listening to our exchange.

"M-My dad? He's d-dead?" The tears refuse to stop falling down my face. I hate crying in front of others but this time I can't hold it in. Yes he was a shitty father but he was mine none the less. He was all I had.

Dante Romano sighs, clearly getting frustrated "yes, now I hate repeating myself, so you either hand over the gun and come willingly or we take you against your will. Your choice."

"F-Fuck you!" I seethe holding the gun up aiming at his heart, preparing myself to shoot. Probably gonna Miss but it's worth a shot. Pun intended.

"Matteo!" He calls.

I have no idea what he's doing until I feel a dirty rag pressed against my me face covering my mouth and nose. I hold my breath immediately realising that they're trying to drug me. But I can only hold my breath for so long. The tears stream down my face as I try scream at my classmates to help me. I'm not so fortunate. The last thing I see is Dante Romanos amused expression before I feel myself drifting off into the darkness