The Perfect Family - editing

01 . finally home

• CHAPTER ONE •
FINALLY HOME

-

Mikayla Hansley never had a home. At least not in the stereotypical sense she'd watch on TV as a child. She didn't have the annoying siblings to bicker with before she went off to a school full of quirky side character best friends, nor did Mickey even have the two loving parents to cry to. Little Mickey would watch as the protagonist would be enveloped in their mother and father's arms, weeping, they'd be kissed and given a loving speech, then the credits would role. An unfamiliar feeling would bubble in her tiny tummy as she clutched a doll, imitating the hug.

Envy was an ugly thing.

She knew better though. To get what you wanted in life, you had to work for it.

That's why Mickey sat on a park bench, hovering a cheap mini flashlight over her text book as she scribbled notes. Was this her first choice of places to study? No, obviously. However, her bothersome roommate decided tonight would be the best to invite over a damn sorority to party. Mickey had never hated someone more. All the libraries and cafes were long closed, where else was Mickey supposed to go?

For someone so smart, it was incredibly stupid to be in public at this hour. She was practically asking for what would come next.

Her head snapped up as her eyes narrowed at the sound of a crunch. Mickey's ears tracked the sound to a man. He was most likely middle age, in shabby clothing, she almost thought he was homeless, that the bench she had would be his bed for the night. Mickey frowned. She wasn't stupid, so when the man  came towards her with purpose she shot up from her hunched position on the bench.

Upon her sudden movement, the man slowed, approaching her like she was a baby deer.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I was just worried, are you alright?"

Mickey exhaled shakily,"thank you for your concern, I am fine, sir."

The man had his back straight, staring at her with purpose swirling in his eyes. She copied his posture, puffing her chest out, at least as much as she could with the journal and textbook crushed on them.

"Sir makes me feel so old," he chuckled, "you can call me Hugh. What's your name?"

Mickey tried to not so frantically stuff her books into her backpack, laughing along.

Hugh hummed, "you really shouldn't be out here alone. Do you need a ride? Anyone waiting for you at home?" He was walking towards her now, hands twitching at his sides. They were only a few feet away from each other.

"No, I'm fine, man."

'Fuck this.' Mickey turned tail and bolted.

She didn't expect him to chase her.

"Oh, God," she cried, as she sprinted in the direction of her college campus. To her dismay, Mickey only made it a few yards before strong hands wrapped around her waist. She elbowed the deranged bastard, screaming, instead of him backing off like she so hoped, a needle pierced the delicate skin of her neck. The pinch was nothing compared to the pure panic coursing through her veins alongside whatever that stuff was. She had been fucking drugged. Mickey screamed into the hand that covered her mouth.

"It's gonna be okay, Mikayla," Hugh whispered. Her eyes widened a fraction before drooping. She stayed limp as Hugh carried her to a truck, she tried to remember the details of the vehicle to no avail.

Unwelcoming, sleep overtook Mickey the second she was placed in the back seat.

-

Light stirred her from her slumber. Mickey, like many people, always thought horrible things couldn't happen to you until they did. At first, she thought (and desperately hoped) that the night before was a dream. That she got drunk at her roommate's party and would wake up in her bed, a little shaken up and hungover, but safe.

She didn't know where she was, Mickey hated not knowing. The bed was comfortable, a pleated blanket lay over her body, heating up from the window over the headboard that shined light on her. Shakily, the girl got to her knees to look out the window only to be rudely greeted with fucking bars. Shaky breaths escaped Mickey as she got up and paced the tiny bedroom. Was - she being sex trafficked? She could surely leave right? There wasn't even handcuffs on her! With determination, Mickey marched towards the door only to back up in horror when the door swung open and a familiar face greeted her.

"You."

Hugh nodded, eyes scanning over her body in a way that made her shiver. To Mickey's relief, her sweatpants and t-shirt from yesterday were still on, but that could change.

"I won't have sex with you!"

The old man's eyes before he broke into a light laughter. Mickey trembled, trying to hold her stance. With a sigh, Hugh sat down and patted the spot next to him on the bed. When Mickey didn't move he grabbed her arm and tugged her down roughly.

Hugh smiled softly at her, which creeped her out to no end. "I imagine this talk is always hard for the girls."

Mickey scooted over, her back against the headboard as she trembled violently. She was being trafficked? Tears ran down her face.

"Awe, Mikayla," Hugh cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away her tears. "Don't cry, you're safe."

She ignored his obviously false statement. "How - how do you know my name?"

Hugh leaned back, humming in disapproval. "I suppose that's a valid question. I've been watching you for a while now."

Mickey gagged. How had she been so unaware? Her mind raced as she searched for any clues, any memories of him before last night. The race was cut short by his speech continuing.

"It's not weird or anything, see, I had to keep an eye on your to keep you safe while you were outside, before I could bring you here. You're home, Mikayla."

He continued on as the woman before him cradled her head, a chorus of "no's" escaping her chapped lips.

"Yes, girl. When a boy turns 20 in this family, it's time he gets a wife. It's the father's job to find one, and that's where you come in, you're gonna be my son's girl. He's gonna take care of you, and love you, and most importantly keep you safe."

"You're crazy! What the fuck -"

A large hand roughly grabbed her chin.  "And in return," Hugh continued, once gentle eyes staring down at her in malice, "you'll be good and obedient to him. Everything we do is for your wellbeing, say it."

His eyes pierced her harsher than the nails digging into her skin.

"Everything, God, everything you do is for me."

"Good girl. I think you're ready to meet your husband."