Chapter One

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Hey guys! The way you pronounce Basia's name is (Ba) (Sh) (A) Basha :) Basia




One Year Later


I stared at the apartment complex that stood in front of me, gnawing on my bottom lip. Here I was. California. I did it. I managed to escape one night when they sent me out to get arrands. I have been saving up money to get a plane ticket and an apartment. Now I was on my own and happy as ever.

I'm Seventeen, not legally able to live by myself but I wasn't going to allow that to stop me from running away. Damian and my father became unbearable. With bruises, cuts and scars, I fled. And there was no way in hell I was ever going back. My life is finally begining. I'm a senior in high school. I will find a job. And I will move on.

At the age of thirteen, I vowed to never talk to men. Not any male human ever. They were untrustworthy, rude, vile people. They hurt girls. They treat them like slaves. No. They didn't deserve my attention. So I stuck with the girls. And I was satisfied with that. I didn't need a man to help me through my life like those sappy love stories. I am a strong, independent woman. And I can do this by myself. Maybe...

I marched into the apartment complex, told them my name and they gave me my room keys. I smiled and nearly skipped to my very own room. It was an overwhelming feeling, actually. I didn't have a room at my old house. I slept on the couch, that way it was easy to wake me up if it was needed.

Now I have my own, personal place where I can do whatever I please! 

When I pushed open the door, I took in the kitchen, living room, dining room, bedroom and bathroom. It was perfect. The bed was full sized, cute with brown comforters. I scrunched my nose. That needed to be changed...right after I got a job of course. They bathroom was simple. It had a shower and bath, big mirror and cabniets.

 The kitchen was beautiful. It had tile flooring, garnite counters and cupboards. The fridge was silverr, the same with the microwave, stove and dishwasher. The living room had a couch and a chair, medium sized TV and a small table in the middle to place drinks and food. The dining room had a simple, round wooden table with four chairs.

I was in love!

After quickly putting my stuff together, placing them in the right places and what-not, I decided I should go job hunting. 

Walking down San Fransisco was amazing. Trans drove by, people rode bikes and couples walked with their hands linked. There were cute shops that were very welcoming. But none of them had "help wanted" signs. 

When there were signs, they didn't want me. I was either too young or they couldn't work around my school schedule. 

I was losing hope when I came across a sweet, little coffee shop, I knew it was the job for me. I strutted in, a smile plastered on my face as I headed toward the girl who was serving a customer. When she was done, she turned towards me and smiled widely. She looked around the same age as me. She had long, curly, brown hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes stood out. But she was oddly pale for living in California. Maybe she just moved here like me?

"Hello! How may I help you, honey?" She folded her hands in front of her and cocked her head to the side slightly. 

"Umm... I saw your help wanted sign and I was wondering if I could apply..." She squealed and threw her arms around me. 

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