Chapter 1

11.7K 215 18
                                    

Chapter 1

CRASH!

Celeste Reid's hands started to shake the moment she heard the crash, and she dropped to her knees to grab all the pieces up. Her porcelain-colored skin was marked with bruises, though she hardly noticed, and her eyes, colored like sunlight filtering through bourbon, darted everywhere, as if she was trying to pick up the pieces of glass just by looking at them.

Her father, Brent, heard the glass shattering and stomped over to her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath before he even reached her.

"What did I say about breaking things?" he bellowed.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, barely flinching when her blood started to drip to the hardwood. She'd have to clean that up later too.

He grabbed the back of her oversized shirt and towed her away from the mess, making her drop everything in her hands; she choked when the collar dug into her neck and winced when he pulled her hair. Standing between her and the broken glass, Brent grinned. His teeth were rotted and his breath stunk something awful. Unfortunately, Celeste was more than used to it.

"Please don't punish me," she whined. "It was an accident."

He ignored her, pushing her back to his room.

~

Online classes are a gift from heaven, Celeste thought as she sat in the library to use the computers.

She was sixteen years old, and smarter than anyone else her age. At thirteen she'd graduated high school, at fourteen she got a bachelor's degree in medicine, and now she was nearly finished getting a law degree.

After law, she wanted to go for criminal justice, to work in the FBI, like her uncle. Dr. Spencer Reid worked in the BAU, and she wanted to be just like him.

Of course, with her love of learning, she wouldn't stop there. She'd still be taking classes when she was fifty, she assumed, trying to get degrees for every college major available.

A passerby looked curiously at her, seeing the screen and how old she was. Celeste just grinned at them and started the class. She didn't care what they thought. Two more years, and she'd be out of there.

Escaping to the GeniusWhere stories live. Discover now