The Paper Crown

~*Chapter One*~

I watched as my father's car pulled up. I was wearing a black dress he bought me for fancy dinners. With the table already being set, I ran over to the door and stood with my feet together, hands behind my back, then plastered a fake smile onto my face.

I watched the door knob turn and saw him. I haven't seen him all summer, three months without him. Three months of sanctuary. He opened the door with a stoic expression. In his hands were his car keys and briefcase, along with his luggage.

I quickly took everything out of his hands before anything was done.

I said, "hello, Father." A noise was heard throughout the house. A slapping noise. His hand against my cheek. Pain soared throughout my entire face which, by the way, was facing the wall with the force of the slap.

"Don't..." he paused, "ever call me Father again. That is one thing I hate, no loathe, to be. Especially to a child like you."

I looked back towards him. "Yes, Sir," I said. He is more cruel than I remember him to be.

I hung my head low as I brought his expensive luggage up to his room. I unpacked all of his clothes and other thing he brought. Everything goes into a certain spot. Putting the dirty clothes in a hamper in the corner of the supposed "shared" room with Queen Rose. When I was finished, I put away the suitcase and left the room with the door closed.

He must have finished dinner then went to find me so he could complain about the food. Actually, that's exactly what he did. As I was coming out of their room, King Beck said, "the steak wasn't marinated long enough and the rice was dry."

Punch.

"There wasn't enough butter with the mashed potatoes and you didn't drain out the corn all the way."

Punch.

"It was barely even room temperature."

Kick.

"The silverware wasn't straight."

Punch.

"The napkins and plates didn't match."

Slap.

"Worst of all? A whore made my meal!"

Kick.

"Who knows-"

Kick.

"What kind of-"

Kick.

"Diseases and germs-"

Kick.

"You could have-"

Kick.

"Added to-"

Kick.

"The mix!"

I was sprawled out on the floor. The wind was knocked out of me, my nose was bleeding, and I could feel the bruises forming on my skin. None-the-less, I rose to my unsteady feet.

"I'm sorry, Sir." I said, "it won't happen again, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"You better be sorry, bitch, and it better not happen again. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I expect my bags to be packed by 5:30 sharp, and I don't want to see you."

"Yes, sir."

I hurried downstairs to eat the rest of the leftover rice. Then continued up the staircase quietly, through a door, and up another spiral stair case. The mansion had two long and wide floors, along with a more private tower like room. It was away from the rest of the house, so my "parents" gave that room to me. It was cool though. I had a circular room, which made it hard to hang up anything framed, but perfect for posters. The walls were a shade of white, and almost everything inside was black. I spray-painted my dresser black with the gold handles, my closet door, my bed frame, my desk, my bed sheets, the curtains, even the drapes on my bed were black.

I picked out the clothes I so boldly bought for tomorrow. For the last three years of my life, I have been practically invisible. No one noticed me simply because I covered my body. In the winter, it was beanies, hoodies, and ripped jeans. In the summer, it was beanies, baggy shirts, and cut offs.

After taking a shower and tending to my bloody nose, I collapsed on my bed. Snuggling into my covers I drifted off to sleep.

Why is tomorrow so important, you may ask. Tomorrow, is the first day of senior year. So I am changing my fate. I...am going to be noticed.