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~Poppy~ 

"WHERE IS SHE?" Mum looked over at me, lifting her head from the stove as I sat at the island with my head in a book.

"I'm so sorry Pops."

"Don't mum." I shook my head. Apologizing didn't change anything. It didn't change the family I was born into. It didn't change my father being a psychopath. It didn't change that I was a woman or that I was only here for one reason and one reason alone. To appease whatever man, he sees fit enough to marry me off to. "We're in here dad." I closed my book slowly, trying to judge his mood based purely on sounds. He sounded cheerful today but with the second pair of steps behind him, I wasn't stupid enough to be lured into a false sense of security.

My dad swung into the room, turning half his body as he headed straight for my mum, pulling her away from the hob and capturing her in a hard kiss that would have convinced anyone they were head over heels in love with each other and not that it was a guarantee my mother would be screaming the house down tonight. These moods were the worst. If he was angry or stressed from work we could tiptoe around him, anticipate his needs, and get him them until he blacked out from mum slipping something in his whiskey. A trick she'd learned years ago.

"Poppy, my sweet girl." I smiled up at him as he grabbed my face tight. "I would like you to sit with Cian again for a little while." Don't fight it. Do not fight it and don't you dare fucking cry.

"Cian?"

"Yes." The brute echoed in the doorway. "Not for long. An hour or so." He nodded his head and I slipped myself out of my chair, taking shaky steps over to take his extended hand. Allowing him to lead me away and up the stairs to my room where he pushed the door closed and locked it. "You're much better at following your instructions Poppy. I don't want any tears this time. I've had a rough day. You know this is for your benefit." I nodded as he tipped my head up an inch until I was looking up into his black eyes. "Your husband will be a very lucky man once I've got you trained up."

Trained up. Like I'm a fucking dog. I shiver at the thought of his hands on me again. He pulled my belt off, dragging my shirt off and tossing it behind me before unbuttoning my jeans.

"You can stop this whenever you want Poppy." Liar. Last time I resisted even the slightest amount I was unconscious for 2 days and woke up with such a swollen face I couldn't see. I wasn't doing that again. My inability to say no isn't consent. I know that. I've had consensual sex. I know how different it feels and that's what I remind myself every time I have to do this. He pulls my jeans off and places one of his red stained hands on my shoulder. "On your knees."

I send myself off into another world. Abandoning my body entirely until I know he's finished with it. Until I blink at the sound of my bedroom door closing again and I'm alone, naked and violated. I stand up, make my way to my bathroom where I scrub and scrub and scrub. I make myself come so I know I still have control of my body. I tell myself over and over again that it isn't right that I know what right feels like and that isn't it. That he's following my father's instructions to 'get me ready'. That hopefully whatever man I end up being married to, as horrible as he will be, hopefully he will be gentle enough to not touch me like Cian does.

There's no time to cry. I climb out of the shower, check my body in the mirror for evidence it happened which he hasn't left this time, I put my clothes back on, fix my makeup and go down for dinner where I smile and nod and help mum clean up after. I excuse myself a few hours later when he and Cian are 3 drinks deep and come back to my room.

I close the door. Lock it. Pull a set of drawers in front of it and sit on the floor. Staring. Thinking.

Thinking what is the point of all of this?

My father claims this to be for my benefit. That I will marry a man who will want this. The educated girl who knows not to speak unless she's spoken to. Who knows how to obey in the bedroom. Who looks pretty and knows her place. Who can look good on his arm, make him better. Who knows how to please a man like them. Dark men with horribly black voids where their souls should live.

My head turns to the window. 4 stories high. Solid concrete tiles at the bottom of the fall. I'd be gone before they even heard the thud. I could. I could stand up, pull open my windows to my little princess tower, hoist myself out and jump. It would take seconds. They wouldn't be able to get to me before I bled out and the impact would probably kill me so quickly I wouldn't feel anything.

My head snaps back as I hear glass shatter downstairs and I sigh, standing up and grabbing my earphones. I can't listen to her screams. I start the music, turning it up until everything else is faded and I'm alone in the world with thoughts I shouldn't have at 21.

But I have to live. Because right now, I get half of my father's abuse. It doesn't kill either of us because it's shared. If I jump, it would be days until my mum followed suit. She'd never be able to get out of here then. She deserves so much more. She deserves the life of luxury she was promised without him. Without his demands and his violent hands and without the fear of speaking. We both deserve so much more than that and I know, there has to be a way somewhere for me to get us out. There has to be.

But I need money and a way to get out and somewhere for us to go. I need a way to wipe us both from existence. I need to work out how I create 2 new fully grown adults from nothing. I need to work out how we escape without him coming after us and it has to be believable.

That is where the problem lies.

If we packed our bags and left whilst he is away, he would find us. He'd track cars and cameras and he'd have his men collect us from the bus station within 20 minutes of us both leaving and when he gets back, he might actually kill us both. Kill us or chain us to the house. Attach collars to us that rendered us incapable of stepping out the doors. I wouldn't put that past him either.

No. This was delicate and I had to be careful about planning it without him finding out.

I'll do it though. I'll find a way out. I have to. 

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