Chapter one: Bad child
Hi my name is Harlow Grey. I'm 18 years old and a senior in Ravenswood academy.
I live in a town called Ravenswood where everyone knows everyone.
I live with my dad in a mansion. A lonely mansion. Well it's been lonely ever since my mom died.
My mom's name was Jewels Grey. She was that type of person that could make the sun jealous with how bright her smile was. She was an artist. My mom was the co-owner of a prestiges art gallery called 'Jewels little piece of heaven'. Her and my dad owned it together. My mom was the artist and designer and my dad was the business man. My dad's name is Jason Grey. He sold her paintings for millions of dollars at huge auctions in New York.
When I was 15 my mom started getting sick. She was constantly tired and started eating less and less until eventually my dad took her to see our doctor. His name is Dr Michaels. She was diagnosed with lung cancer. After a whole year of operating and chemo therapy the cancer spread and my mom died.
I had just turned 16 a few days before. I was at home when I got the call from my dad. I remember it like it was yesterday.
"Harlow... It's-it's your mom. She-she died baby... She's gone."
After that day everything changed. I not only lost my mom that day but also my dad. He sold the gallery even after I begged him not to. It's a piece of my mom. He didn't care. He sold it and started a new company where he became an art dealer. Buying and selling others art out of his own gallery called 'Grey Gallery'.
He's not home anymore. And when he is I have to deal with being abused, physically and mentally. He would always drink. When he'd look at me he'd shout and tell me what a dissapointment I am and how much I look like my mother. He hated that I look like my mother.
I have long dark black hair that reaches just above my butt and I'm short and small with my mom's blue eyes and smile.
Whenever he sees my face he beats it until I'm swollen and so bruised you could barley recognize me. He liked that. He'd always do it with a sinister smile on his face like he was so proud that he could make me look so hideous.
My dad is gone. He died with my mom.
After I turned 17 I was so used to the abuse that I would always cover my face by wearing a hoody so that he'd not see my face. On days that he beat my body I would wear baggy clothes to school and hide myself away.
After losing my mom and now dad I also lost my best friend. Her name was Tracy. We grew up together and promised to always stick together. Me and her used to be the popular kids in school but after I lost my mom and my dad started beating me I become really anti-social. I hated everyone and everything. People started hating me because I didn't want them coming to my house or seeing the true me.
I never smiled anymore and ignored everyone. Then the bullying started. It was just name calling at first but then it progressed to physical bearings where I would sometimes be left unconscious on the ground. Nobody cared and when I tried to tell Tracy she broke our friendship because she liked being popular more than being my friend. She used me. We haven't spoken since that day.
So now I'm that girl who always wears black and sits at the back of the class. You never see her. You never hear her. I'm alone and with nothing and no-one to call my own.
But it's better that way... Less people to disappoint.