I walked down the narrow road leading to my parents house, slightly regretting even coming back here. I even had the driver leave me at the gates because I wanted to get to the house as slow as possible, just so I could get myself ready for what's to come. I saw the huge, white old mansion ahead of me, it hasn't changed one bit. I grew up with 3 brothers and 2 sisters, the mansion itself has 15 rooms and it is three stories high. I still remember it like yesterday. I also remember the day I decided to leave to marry a boy they didn't approve of, the boy that brought me back home because I couldn't take the abuse anymore. He beat me so bad this time that it landed me in the hospital. I lived in my car for a week until I decided it was time to finally come back full well knowing I probably wouldn't be welcome. I gathered all of my courage just to leave New York to come back to the small town of Brasswood. The closer I got to the house, I saw my mother step out from the double french doors to wait for me at the porch. She has wrinkles and now visible gray hair. She wore a smile on her face once she saw me, then turned to a frown when I got to the porch. She met me at the foot of the porch and reached out her hand to my face, making me slightly flinch due to the abuse I had gone through.
"What happened to your face, darlin'?" She asked me, already knowing the answer I'm sure. It was all over the internet.
"Just a few bruises, ma," I smiled up at her, "You look good."
"Come on inside," She went up the stairs and opened the doors for me.
I followed her up to my old room, we passed by the same maids that we had when I was younger. When we got to the room, nothing was changed from when I left. I put my torn up, small suitcase down on the floor and hugged my mother.
"Thank you for letting me stay," I whispered, tears already coming down my eyes.
"You always have a home here darlin'," She began to sob as well, something my mother never did in front of us.
"Now you go on and take a shower, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Don't you run off again now," She lectured me and left my room.
I did as she told me and took a shower, something I haven't had in a week now. It was embarrassing just letting my mother see me like this to begin with. I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my body, and looked in the long mirror on the door. My body has bruises all over from where Adam had threw me through the glass coffee table at the apartment in New York. My face looked horrible still, I still have a black eye from where he held me down and punched my face. The only thing that looked appealing to me was my long, blonde wavy hair. Tears began coming down my face again, I look like a damn trainwreck.
"Madam," I heard a knock outside my bathroom door.
I slightly open it and it is the maid Rosie, who mainly raised all the kids when mom and dad went to work. She pushed open the door and had a concerned expression.
"Come on, girl. Let me get you ready for dinner," She grabbed my hand and sat me down in the vanity chair. She began to stylemy hair and picked out a long sleeve shirt with a pair of pants for me to wear. She even applied makeup to my face to hide the marks
