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Prologue

Autumn's POV

--May--

Unwanted sunlight poured from my open window into my small room. I felt warmth tickle my skin as if it was nudging me to wake up. With a few huffs of annoyance, I rolled over onto my side and pulled my thick, flowery duvet over my head. I absolutely despised the sun and the way it filled my room each morning. It reminded me of what each day always entailed: Mom screeching commands at me every minute, spending hour after hour tirelessly cleaning up the filth of my "home," and never getting a moment to relax and read my books. Today, not only would I be forced to clean up after my mother and her disgusting boyfriend, but I would also have to suffer the pain of seeing Mom be with another man.

My dad was my best friend. Mom always told me that as soon as she pushed me from her womb, she knew that I had captured Dad's heart completely. "You always have him wrapped around your little finger," she would say to me whenever Dad's ears were just out of reach. She told me Dad spoiled me too much, but I think she was jealous of our relationship. We never fought. We never even argued. Everything he told me, I knew it was because he loved me and had my best interests at heart.

"You can't go out late at night because you might get hurt," he would say to me every time I asked to push my curfew farther into the night.

"I don't want you dating that boy because he doesn't keep the right company."

"You can't get a tattoo right now because you're too young and might regret it later in your life."

Because. Because has always been the word that most distinguished him from Mom. He didn't try to control me, he wanted to protect me. He told me why I shouldn't do the things my teenage desires desperately wanted me to do. I never acted like most teens do-go out late, party, get drunk, have sex, smoke-because he told me why I shouldn't. He cared about me. He loved me. I always knew this. Always, always, always. But now he's gone.

About a month ago, I was still at school when I heard the principle's foreboding voice over the intercom. It was the beginning of second period, Mr. Hendrix's dreadful calculus class. The grogginess from the morning had just begun its slow release from my heavy eyes.

"Autumn Allen to the principle's office please."

My heart skipped a beat, and the sleepiness I once felt only seconds ago instantly drained from my body. I had never even been to detention before, let alone been called to the principle's office.

As the click of my boots against the smooth, tiled floor ricocheted within my skull, I went through my racing thoughts scanning for anything I might have done to warrant being called to the principle's office. Mom's face, red in anger, pushed to the forefront of my mind. I knew if she found out that I had gotten into trouble at school, I would hear no end to it. I knew whatever punishment she would decide to enforce on me would be bad. My only hope was that dad would be home when she began reprimanding me.

My arm shaking slightly, I could feel the clamminess of my hand press back into my palm as I turned the doorknob to Mr. Porter's office. His eyes met mine, and he beckoned for me to sit down. His lips pressed slightly into a thin line. His face held uncertainty to it, as if he wasn't quite sure what I was doing in his office. My heart continued to pound inside of my ears.

Mr. Porter motioned for me to shut the door, and as I did, he cleared his throat quietly. He folded his smooth hands together and placed them atop his neatly organized desk.

"Miss Allen," he began hesitantly, "I'm not quite sure how to begin to tell you this." As he finished his sentence, I could tell that he began to chew on his lower lip. He tried to hide this from me, but as he opened his mouth to speak for a second time, the tiniest speck of blood revealed itself on his lip. I looked into his young eyes. I did not know Mr. Porter well, as he had just transferred to our school a year earlier, but I instantly knew that whatever he was about to tell me, he did not want to.

"Your father has passed away."

There was silence for a few moments. I did not look away from him. His eyes bounced from picture frame to picture frame across the walls of his office.

"What?"

"He was rushed to the hospital an hour or so ago. He unfortunately passed away."

Unfortunately? He spoke as if he was telling me my dog was just put down, as if it was something expected, something I should've been prepared for.

"What do you mean? Why wasn't I told about this? Why am I just now hearing about this?" The words unwillingly poured from my mouth. I didn't know what I was saying, but I couldn't control it. I was not myself. Something was missing.

"W-well," he stuttered and paused for a slight second. I think he was expecting me to burst out in tears or gasp in shock. He was ready for sadness, grief, crying. He was ready to comfort the girl who could not control her wails and cries at the news of her father's passing. He was not expecting anger.

"I'm telling you now," he said weakly. "I don't know all the details. Autumn, I am so terribly sorry for your-"

I practically leapt from my chair, the force of my body causing the back of the chair to push into the wall.

"I'm leaving." I reached for the door.

As the door swung behind me, I heard nothing else from Mr. Porter.

I left the building as quickly as I could. I couldn't stand to let anyone see me cry. No one noticed my stifled sobs or the few stray tears slip from my eyes. As soon as I reached my car, the sobs I was trying desperately to hold back escaped my lips. I wailed ugly, pleading sobs that morning, the most hideous sobs I had every cried.

That day was the day that my world ended.

The last month of school flew by. Prom, graduation, none of it mattered. I was practically sleep walking everyday, forcing myself to trudge through the mud and shit of each day so I could collapse back into my bed as soon as I got home. Mom was no help. Any resentment she held towards me before Dad died amplified by hundreds. She yelled, screamed, cried. I could ignore it all and pretend I was just a soul outside of my body, watching my life unfold before my eyes, almost as if it was someone else's.

That was until Mom got a new boyfriend after I graduated, and she morphed me into her own personal slave.

Now I feel that there is nothing I have to live for. No friends. No Dad. Not really even a mom. It's just me, my books, and my memories of Dad holding me together.

As my alarm went off, I begrudgingly rolled out of bed and started my day off with bitterness and anger gnawing at my chest.