Back in England, my family was considered to be perfect. They lived in the perfect street, in a perfect house with the perfect garden. The neighbours loved us and we were respected. We could say that both of my parents used to have complete different lifestyles, my dad was a respected lawyer and my mother was a musician who decided to stay at home and take care of me. Even though my father was the ultimate bread winner, my mother would always tell me to be in charge of the household, therefore, no chaos is caused.

My mother was loved in the neighbourhood, she would get along with almost everyone. If you had a negative opinion of her, she would change your mind. She was outspoken and free spirited.

Us three were inseparable.

Were.

It was hard to understand and wrap around the idea that my mother contemplated suicide. It was impossible. There were no signs showing any sort of depression, but you know what they say, the ones with the brightest smiles are damaged.

I came home in a good mood, I had received an A in history and a boy asked me out on a date, I couldn't wait to tell my mother. As soon as I opened the front door, I knew something was wrong. Silence welcomed me, not the clatter from the kitchen or the sound of the guitar strings being played in the living room. Dropping my bag at the entrance, I began to call out her name, opening doors and going through the rooms.

It wasn't until I reached my parents bedroom, when my stomach dropped. There was blood coming out of the bathroom. Opening the door, I lead out the loudest scream I could muster. There she was, lying dead on the bathroom floor surrounded by a pool of blood. I rushed down by her side and began searching where the blood was coming from, however, due to the immense blood loss soaking her clothes and skin, it was impossible. I called 999 and minutes later, the paramedics came rushing into the bathroom. I stood in that spot, witnessing how they carried my mother's corpse out of the bathroom. My father right before the ambulance took off. Rushing into the room, he saw me standing in the same spot, blood staining my uniform as tears rolled down my cheeks.

After my mother's funeral, my father locked himself in his office for hours as I locked myself in my bedroom. We ignored each other for days, using this as a coping mechanism. When we were at the table, only the sound of the utensils clattering against the plate filled the room.

It wasn't until I saw a moving van right in front of my house, carrying my stuff into the back as my father watched them.

"Papá, ¿que está pasando?"

("Dad, what's happening?")

"Nos vamos a casa, Astrid."

("We're going home, Astrid.")

I froze, not only by the fact that my father decided to move us to Spain, but because my father called me by my name. He never called me by my name, he would always call me mi niña. I knew the death of my mother affected him greatly, but not to the point where he would pack our stuff and move to another country.

***

The plane ride was silent, my father would just fill in some paperwork, whilst I read a book. When I tried to ask him something, he would interrupt me by saying he was busy and he couldn't talk right now. Once we landed, my father drove us to an old house he bought with his savings. Once we got settled, he went straight to his office, which was on one side of the house, and I went to my bedroom, which was on the other side of the house.

Months passed and we grew distant from each other, my father only talked to me if he won a case, however, he hardly asked me about how my life was going in my new school. When he did, I would avoid it. You see, I was bullied because of my accent. All of my classmates struggled with English, and responded with short simple sentences or even tried to avoid answering the question, on the other hand, I would speak longer sentences and always got picked to read. It all started when a girl picked on me, calling me a kiss ass and that my accent was fake just for attention, then, it was like a snowball effect, the teasing grew bigger to the point were I would make excuses to not go to school.

Many people teased me, but there was one person who stood by me the whole time. Emilia. She was also bullied because of her accent and always encouraged me to be strong. Ever since then, we were inseparable.

The relationship with my father was still strained. Until a woman came into our lives, Laura. At first, I thought she was an incredible woman, always laughing and joking around. My father would laugh along with her and that made me happy. Until they got married the following month. That's when she started showing her true colours. She would criticise me and make fun of me any chance she had. Several weeks later, Mateo moved in with us after his father threw him out, making the situation worse for me.

I hated Mateo with pure passion. Why? Because he was one of the kids that bullied me, and to share a house with him was going to make it worse. Emilia on the other hand, gushed and praised him. To this day, I still don't understand why. She would always make an excuse to see him and talk about him.

You could imagine my reaction once they started dating.

***

She came to me skipping with a huge smile plastered on her face.

"Guess what?" I signalled for her to continue. "Mateo asked me to be his girlfriend!"

"What the fuck?"

"I know right!? It's like I never imagined-"

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped.

"What got you in a mood today?" She asked. "You should be happy that I have a boyfriend!"

"If he wasn't Mateo, I would be jumping around with you. You know how he is!"

"Yeah, well people change." She folded her arms as I scoffed at her response.

"Mateo won't change. You know that."

Emilia rolled her eyes and walked away, offended by my reaction. If she dated any guy, I would be happy for her. But knowing how Mateo is, I knew there was something going on.

***

It had been two months since Mateo and Emilia started dating. Emilia and I saw us less and less as she would always tell me that she and Mateo had made plans, but I knew that those plans never took place as Mateo would always go to nightclubs with his friends. I knew that Mateo was cheating on Emília with other girls but I didn't have the nerve to tell her. Call me a bad friend, I kind of deserved it, but I knew that if I told her, she would've accused me from lying.

"Want to come to my house after?" I asked as we left the school building.

"I wish I could," Emilia complained. "But Mateo is taking me somewhere."

She then lowered her voice so that I was the only one listening, "I think we're going to have sex!"

I felt my stomach drop as soon as I headed her. Is she really going to lose her virginity to a sadistic pig?

Of all pigs?

I knew this would mean a lot to Emilia, so I showed her a tight smile and gave her a thumbs up as a good luck sign. A black Lykan HyperSport parked right in front of us and the window rolled down, showing Mateo who was signalling Emilia to get in. Without saying goodbye, she ran towards the car and the couple drove off, leaving me all alone.

The way that Mateo looked at me caused a shiver to run down my spine. And I knew in that exact moment, things between them weren't going to end well.

Especially for Emilia.