Walking In A Different Light (Rebooted): Currently in editing

Prologue

"Shit!" I whisper-yelled.

I stubbed my toe against the edge of the bed as I was attempting to sneak out.

I peeked over at Richard...or Ryan...or whatever his name was to make sure he was still sleeping. When I was sure he was I continued to pull up my skinny jeans. My eyes were squinted in the dark, trying to find the rest of my clothing that was scattered around his apartment. When I had finally tracked down my blouse, I hooked my heels in my one hand and slung my handbag on my arm. Then I quietly tip toed out of the bedroom, past the kitchen and sneakily out his front door, which the idiot forgot to lock.

It was close to two in the morning and the roads were practically empty, it would be impossible to find a cab. Luckily the guy lived walking distance from the club we met at. It took me just over twenty minutes to walk back to the almost dead club and find my red Camaro still parked across the street from the entrance.

Once I was safely sitting in the driver's seat, I smoothed my hair down and quietly banged my head against the steering wheel. My adopted parents would be so mad if they knew where I was. I didn't want to think about getting caught with the headache that my sudden soberness had brought on. I would have the worst hangover tomorrow morning.

I sighed deeply but started the car anyway and drove to the house. As soon as I got back, I drove up the extensive driveway and parked next to Cameron's new Ferrari. Then I snuck quietly to the side of the large house and began to climb up the rose ladder to my bedroom window on the second floor.

I climbed into the dark room quietly and found the light switch for the en suite bathroom. Once I was inside it, I pulled off my skinny jeans and blouse and replaced them with fuzzy shorts and an oversized T-shirt. I scrubbed my face of my smudged mascara and ruined make up. Then I ran a brush through my messy dark brown locks.

I walked back into the room and switched off the bathroom light. I sauntered up to my king sized bed and picked up my purse from next to the bed where I left it with my heels. I pulled out my phone and plugged it into its charger on my bedside table. I sighed and crawled onto my large bed, snuggled into my pillows and fell asleep.

My name is Esther Rebecca Matthews and this was a normal night for me. It wasn't always like this. Three years ago, my mum, Carli Matthews, was brutally murdered by Kent Matthews, my father. He was a drunk, an aggressive drunk. He had never been taught good manners and patience and I sometimes wonder how my mom could marry a man like that. He wasn't always like that. They had me when my mom was eighteen going on nineteen and he was seven years older than her.

They met at a concert during her junior year of high school and she says it was love at first sight. And of course with her being a high school teenage cheerleader, barely capable of understanding the morbid truths of the world, and him being a hot college football player it didn't take long for them to engage in the usual reckless sexual behaviours. And just after she finished senior year, barely making it with her just above average grades, she found out she was pregnant.

Her parents were incredibly strict Christians and she didn't want to break the news that she was pregnant out of wedlock; they would probably have shunned her and forbid them to ever see each other. So they got married two months into her pregnancy. She never went to college. Kent finished his degree and got a well paying office job at some fancy business company. She moved out of her parents' house and soon enough they had me. After that my mom managed to get a job as a waitress for some restaurant. And five years later, things were working out for them. She eventually got promoted to manager due to her hard work and determination. He eventually became CEO. We were a happy family.