At the age of seventeen, we have an entire lifetime ahead of us. In some cases we try to leave behind the past lives, we've lived. Whether they be boring, wasted time, or just too awful to hold onto any longer. Some people live their lives in the same routinely scheduled days, satisfied with nothing ever changing. Amanda Monroe, was not that seventeen year old. She wanted freedom.

When she was younger she had a normal life, without trama or negativity. However, her mother had died when she was only thirteen. From that moment on, she lived with her step father as she had no other family. Her mother had been an orphan child, and she remained an orphan until she was old enough to leave the orphanage of her own free will. Conrad, Amanda's step father, was the only man she recalled being a part of her mothers life. Her own father was a mystery. For some reason her mother never mentioned him to her either. Perhaps she hadnt known who the father was herself.

For the last four years, Amanda had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her figure was petite, but not so much as to be considered gaunt. Standing at five feet, and six inches tall, she was the spitting image of her mother. Her curly pale blonde hair was long and thick, and usually worn in a ponytail or left cascading down her shoulders in waves. With eyes such a light shade of blue, they could almost be considered silver/grey, and delicate curvy features she is a vision of beauty on her worst days. She has a lip piercing referred to as spider bites, which is two holes close together on one side of her lip. In this case, hers were on the bottom left side of her mouth which added a punkish look to her otherwise angelic features. On her back, just below her neck, she had a tattoo of a wooden cross, tightly wrapped in vines with sharp thorns protruding from them. On each of her wrists she had words encircling them like bracelets. On her her left wrist were the words, "Every saint has their past..." and on her right wrist it said, "...Every sinner has their future."

When Amy (her nickname) lost her mother, everything changed, especially Conrad. He was more strict with her than ever before. Nothing she did was ever good enough, and she was more than a bit frightened by him. He was a heavy drinker and a pill popper, so she was used to his aggressive outbursts.

On this particular day, however, Conrad had woken up from a drug induced slumber. Realizing that is was only 5:30 in the morning, and that he had no where to be until 8 he simply layed there unmoving. He was a very active part of the community in their small town. He helped with some school functions, and was an honorary boy scout before he went into the military. He was a part of a few veterans groups throughout town and a few that were out of town as well. He had the respect of almost everyone in the area. However, his reputation was entirely false. He may have had the public fooled, but he was an exceptionally harsh and spiteful man. He was so pretentious and full of himself that he considered his household to be his Mount Olympus. To him he was the God of the household. Amy was simply a burden he was saddled with, and she wasnt even his. She was more like a servant or a slave in his eyes. Afterall she owes him everything for keeping her when he didnt have to and certainly didnt want to.

As he layed in bed thinking about Lilah, Amy's mother, the only woman he had ever married, he glared at his ceiling. Things were so perfect between them when they had first gotten married. Amy was only a baby then, but he thought of her as Lilah's pet to keep her company when he was away. Lilah however, was the perfect trophy wife. She had come with no annoying in-laws, and a body like a goddess. She was his first and only choice. Most women never gave him the time of day, due to his crude manners and self righteous attitude. Despite that, they had a perfect marriage for almost ten years. She cooked, cleaned, took care of Amy, and had a part-time job at a local beauty boutique. She catered to Conrad's every desire, even in the bedroom. Once she even sat and watched him be intimate with two other women, without being involved herself. Unfortunately, if a man so much as noticed her beauty in public, he was quick to punish her for it behind closed doors. He never fought with her infront of people, including Amy. He preferred to keep his violent side a secret for the sake of his reputation and he hid it remarkably well.

When he caught Lilah with another man, he blew up. Later that very evening, while Amy slept, he drugged her mother. He'd stuck her with a needle, and she overdosed on heroin. Later in the early hours of morning he called the police, and by the time they arrived Conrad was frantically panicking. He pleaded with the chief of police, a decorated marine veteran as well as old friend of his, not to let Amy find out about her mothers drug addiction. He lied, that he had been trying to help her for years, and that he woke up in the middle of the night and found her dead. The police falsely ruled the death as an accident. However word had gotten around anyway, and most people in town new her real cause of death. Still, no one bothered mentioning it, out of respect for Conrad. He had everyones trust and support after that. Everything had changed for Amy, that day she took her mothers place as his personal punching bag. He was always so angry. It started with yelling and wicked punishments that were unnecessary, but not quite considered abusive.

Over the years, Amy got comfortable being in her mothers shoes. To her, he was heartbroken over her mothers death, and now he was just so angry about it. The fact that she favored Lilah exactly must've been hard on him, and she assumed that was the cause of him taking everything out on her. She understood that and because of that, she simply accepted his behavior gracefully. In reality he wasnt at all brokenhearted, but he was angry every moment of every day.

When he finally got out of bed, he made coffee, and took a shower. As he was getting dressed he heard Amy slam the front door as she left for school. It was very intentional as she did that every morning so as to wake him up if he hadnt woken up on his own. He only saw it as disrespectful behavior. Scrambling about his room for a pair of socks, he huffed and puffed. Not a single matching pair was clean. "Hell why do I even keep you around?! Ungrateful bitch.." He hissed out loud, referring to Amy having disregarded his laundry. She was always hesitant to go into his room, afterall her mother had died there. So she made an effort to stay away, and in doing so she would miss the parts of his laundry that hadnt ended up in the bathroom hamper. He let out a long shakey breath, trying to release his anger calmly before putting on a pair of dirty socks from the day before. He couldnt be caught dead wearing unmatching socks.

When he left for a boy scouts event, he told himself he would have to think of a good way to make Amanda see the error of her ways. What he had asked of her was very simple and at this rate she was shaping up to be, "a pitiful excuse for a woman." He spent the rest of his day quietly brooding over his departed wife's shitty little **** up. As the day went by he fed his anger with pills and once he got home he locked himself away in his room. It wasnt until after Amy had returned home and finished her chores that he finally emerged.

Amy was in black spandex shorts and a black tank top with a grey sports bra slightly showing underneath it. With her hair in a ponytail, this was her usual attire for housework. She was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes as she called out to Conrad. "Food is ready!"

With a sigh, she put the last of the dishes in the strainer and proceeded to set the table. After a few minutes, he came out into the livingroom and over to the dining area where he sat down with a disgusted look on his face. "You're not trying to poison me now, are you?" He asked angrily.

"No, of course not." She sat down quietly, staring down at her feet, lost in thought. 'Doesnt sound like a bad idea though.' They ate their food in a suffocating silence for several minutes, as the tension began to build.

"How was your day?" she asked without looking up at him.

"Long and aggravating. You need to do laundry, I couldnt even fine a pair of clean socks this morning." He spat his words at her as he glared at her with flaring nostrils.

"I started a load before I made dinner." She clarified in a soft, small voice. Yet, in a matter of seconds, he was on his feet. The entire dining table was flipped over and her eyes widened as the food and drinks went flying. A gasp was all that escaped her lips as she sat in her chair confused.

"A lot of help that is now! If you would do your chores correctly I wouldnt have to wear dirty clothes! You're a good for nothing, spoiled rotten bitch!" He yells at her, walking away. "And clean this shit up!" He adds before slamming to door to his bedroom.

She sat in silence for a moment, frozen in place as tears slid down her cheeks. '**** my life...' She thought as she got up and put the table back in pace with considerable effort. Then she took the dishes to the sink and looked over the mess. 'Why is every move I make wrong...?' With a sigh, her shoulders drooped. There were noodles and spaghetti sauce strewn about everywhere from the table, to the floor. Some had even gotten on the couch and the wall and herself. 'A perfectly good dinner, wasted on that man.' Was all she could think.

After quickly washing the dishes, she went to the dining area and started picking up spaghetti from the floor and furniture. There were globs of it here, and some smeared sauce there. Once she had picked up what she could, she got down on her hands and knees and began trying to get the stains out of the carpet.

Conrad then came out of his room with a towel over his shoulder, and upon seeing him a lump formed in her throat. Conrad Striker, was a very large man in more ways that one. Not only was he freakishly tall standing at six feet and eight inches in height, but his build was strong and sturdy even for his age. He was in his mid forties, and if it werent for the slightest touch of grey in his stubble, no one would think him a day over thirty. He had a natural tan to his skin that Amy sometimes envied, but his dark brown hair and deep forest green eyes complemented his skin tone far better than hers would, in her opinion. He was what most people would call ruggedly handsome. Not to mention his chiseled physique. Aside from the scar on his left cheek that extended up from his jaw line over his eye and to his eyebrow, his appearance was flawless. Both of his arms were sleeved out, with tattoos he'd gotten while in the service of the military. Yet even with all his handsome features, he was more frightening to her than anything else

She swallowed the lump in her throat as he stood infront of her, looking down at her with a wicked smirk. "You've got food all over you." He said kneeling down and pulling a noodle from her hair. "You're filthy. You need a shower sweetheart." She bit down on her lip, staring at the stained carpet, unable to move or even speak. He stared at her intently. "Go ahead and take one." He ordered handing over the towel. She took it slowly, still hanging her head.

"Thankyou sir." She uttered as she stood up and walked past him headed for her bathroom, which is connected to her bedroom. As soon as she stepped into her room the bathroom door was to her left.

"I"ll be there in a moment." He added calmly before she closed herself in the bathroom. Her whole body tensed up as he spoke and a whimper escaped her lips as her body began to tremble uncontrollably. However, she simply started the shower anyway, more afraid of what would happen if she refused him than what was to come. Her heart and mind were racing as she slowly stripped herself of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Focusing on her breathing she told herself, 'I'm no longer a child...this is ridiculous..' She was shivering in disgust, as the warm water flowed over her trembling body.

She washed her hair and was rinsing the conditioner out, when she heard the bathroom door open and close. Her hand was on the wall of the shower, to steady her. Due to the overwhelming feeling that her legs would give out on her, she used it for support. Afraid to open her eyes, she took a long deep breath. He stepped into the shower behind her, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She could feel his gaze cover every last inch of her body. With her stomach in knots, she slowly turned to face him and opened her eyes. Conrad was the first to speak, and seeing as he was actually standing ***** with her in the shower, Amy couldnt focus on speaking. All she wanted was to be anywhere else in that moment. Of course, she couldnt avoid looking at him forever...

"Hand me the soap?" He asked her this but his tone didnt come off in the form of a question. Still at a loss for words, she only nodded in defeat with her lips pressed firmly together. His member was hard to avert her gaze from, not that she didnt want to look away, but he stood there so proudly before her, with no shame or embarrassment in his eyes. While she on the other hand, had her arms wrapped firmly around herself and he legs squeezed firmly together. Never having seen this part of him before, she was practically in shock as she shakily grabbed a bottle of soap and her loofah. "I wont be needing that." He tells her and she nervously sets the loofah back down before holding the bottle out to him.

"Y-you dont have to do this..." She told him meekly as if it needed stating at all. He ignored her comment and put his large hand on her tiny little hip and moved her, trading places with her so he could be under the running water.

"Turn around and put your hands on the wall." He ordered her as he poured some soap into his hand. As she turned away with a gulp and did as he said, he rubbed his hands together. She felt cold, almost frozen as she waited. When his big, warm hands made contact with her skin she shivered and let out an involuntary sigh. He massaged her shoulders, lightly working his soapy, unnaturally hot hands up both of her arms, then down her back and her sides. The sensation alone was actually rather pleasant. However, she was quivering lightly, which went unnoticed. Her only guess was that he felt like humiliating her, but then he knelt down behind her after acquiring more body wash. He started at her ankles and began working his hands up her legs, not missing an inch of her. When he got to her upper thighs he ordered her to, "Spread them." To which she slowly obliged. His hands were on her butt next, massaging tenderly. This felt like more than just pure humiliation, but she couldnt bring herself to see that he was only touching her, to prove that he could.

"I-I think I can do the rest." She said her breathing ragged and heavy in anticipation. Finding herself unable to move at all, she only stared forward with tears in her eyes at the wall before her. She felt every bit of humiliation he was intending. Hearing the sharp exhale of air from Conrad's nostrils, she clenched her fists. "I'm not...a child anymore.." What she had wanted was to raise her voice at him, but almost every word came out broken and strained.

"No...You are not a child." He agreed and his hand slipped down between her legs. She gasped when he began circling her asshole gently before slowly easing his thumb inside it. Her thighs reflexively closed shut, trembling more. She reached back and tried to push him away. Her efforts were fruitless. The heat radiating off his body took her breath away. He was standing now, with his erection pressed hard against her backside, and she could feel every inch of it.

"Oops, my bad. Must've slipped." He whispered mockingly in her ear, before pulling his thumb out of her and slowly taking a step back. "Go ahead and turn around for me."

She thought she might collapse then and there, but to her own surprise she did exactly as he said, like a robot following orders without a second thought. Fighting to blink away her tears, she stared through the foggy glass, sliding shower door. "I-I am sorry...for neglecting my housework. It wont happen again." Her voice was pleading with him to give up this game he was playing, for she was clearly not having as much fun as he was.

He ignored this too and continued bathing her, giving more than his fair share of attention to her breasts. The entire time she looked away in shame and fear. There was no part of her that wanted to see the look of satisfaction in his eyes as he embarrassed her so. Shockingly, he did let her wash her most private part. Not that he wasnt watching intently as he tried to make it look like he were only cleaning himself as she did so.

After the shower, Amy found herself laying in bed holding herslef and crying. She felt a strong hate for Conrad since her mother had passed away. But more so now than ever before. Unfortunately she never knew her actual father, and so she was stuck with him. All she could feel were his big, rough, eager hands all over her, washing her. 'I swear one day hes going to rape me. He's never gone that far. But he has gone too far...' She was sobbing now at the memory of a shower they'd shared a few years ago, when he had first touched her inappropriately. Although then it hadnt gone so... far. At fifteen, she knew it was wrong, but he knew how to keep her quiet. He knew to keep her busy at home. She always did what he said, when he said it, and without question. His rough military background, along with his size, frightened her and left her feeling trapped like a firefly in a jar without air holes.

She had no one to confide in, now that her mother wasnt around. Her supply of friends was...inadequate to say the least. Having been shy way long before Conrad began harassing her, she never learned how to make friends. Nowadays, she didnt have the confidence to try and make them.

After half an hour of crying, she had dressed in a big t-shirt and loose sleeping shorts. It was only 9 o'clock, and on a Friday night. She had school on Monday morning. Conrad always thought education was very important. He expected perfect grades, advanced classes, and perfect attendance. She managed to pass most of her classes, but she didnt expect a scholarship for college. Honestly, college seemed too much for her to handle, as she preferred to stay away from people as much as she could. It was hard for her to trust people, since she had known Conrad almost her whole life and he seemed to change so abruptly. Before her moms death he was a good step father and provider. Back then she thought very highly of him.

Exhaustion was setting in, and her eyes were puffy and red. Her cheeks had been rubbed raw from constantly wiping away her tears. The filthy feeling of him left her skin crawling. Even though she has been thoroughly washed, that feeling remained. After she had calmed down, due to heavy medication, her glazed eyes where all but fighting to stay open. She turned on her CD player and put the volume on low. Music had always calmed and relaxed her. When she sang along to the music and actually tried to hit the right notes, it kept her from crying. Mostly, it was because she had to focus on the words and not her own thoughts. That night it kept her from shaking herself into peices. Yet, she was too tired to sing, and soon fell asleep. She spend her weekend inebriated and locked away in her room. She had only come out to do her chores and eat when Conrad wasnt around.

The next morning, at 7:30 a.m, Amy reached over and turned off her alarm clock only a few seconds before it was to go off. Sitting up in bed, she yawned and stretched her limbs. She then began tip-toeing around her room to get dressed. Conrad was snoring loudly in the livingroom, having fallen asleep on the couch while watching porn on the TV. That much was clear to her without having to check.

She dressed in a pair of light grey skinny jeans, with a white belt and matching converse sneakers. With a shear long sleeved white button up blouse and a grey tank-top underneath it, to complement the rest of her outfit, she actually looked quite beautiful even to herself. However, this was her work outfit for the day, and she had no intention of walking around that way at school. Her signature baggy hoodie was her final piece of clothing. It took away from her outfit substantially as it hid any curves or feminine appeal she had altogether. It was a deep shade of black in contrast to her perfectly white shoes and almost white, grey jeans. She decided to leave her hair down for the day, and its pale blonde also contrasted dramatically with her hoodie. Looking over her makeup in the bathroom mirror she told herself, 'This is as good as it's going to get,' then she took off headed for the bus stop.

After taking her designated seat on the bus, with her headphones in, she leaned her head against the cold window. Amy watched the trees and thin dirt driveways pass by. Her bus ride to school was usually about forty-five minutes long. She liked to pretend nobody else existed on the bus, as most everyone avoided sitting with her anyway. After years of her sitting alone it became common knowledge not to sit by "the weird girl." Most people would feel like an outcast in this situation, but Amy was just happy to be alone with her thoughts.

That day the bus happened to stop at a driveway that it would normally pass by. She was singing Fireflights song, Stand Up, under her breath amongst the loud children and adolescents chattering, when HE sat next to her. Her body tensed and she lost her voice altogether as she took in his presence. Her face burned bright red when she met his gaze. His medium length, perfectly emo styled black hair and porcelain skin were both mesmerizingly flawless. He didnt seem to have a freckle or a blemish, nor dry skin on his perfectly shaped lips. He was like an airbrushed model in a magazine. His eyes were such a piercingly electric shade of blue, that she felt Narcissus himself had stepped onto the school bus by accident. She looked away from him almost immediately and was in shock for a brief moment. Closing her eyes, she softly began to sing again to a new song by Panic at the Disco.

(P.O.V Change \= River)

He goes straight to the back of the bus as a few girls giggle and smile at him. Taking a seat next to the only person who wasnt staring at him and whispering back and forth with her friends blatantly, about him. He could hear her singing quietly to herself. For some reason, when their eyes met, she only blushed and looked away from him without a greeting. She didnt bother to strike up a conversation at all, which intrigued him as most people felt his presence alone to be charming. Yet, this girl didnt seem to care that he was there at all. Perhaps the emo style he had chosen for his high school experience was not the perfect choice he thought it'd be. He did stick out like a sore thumb, but not because of his clothing style. It was his unprecedented good looks. The girl next to him was quite small, fragile even, in his eyes. Her body language and clothing suggested that she wanted to be left alone. 'She's quite the cutie.' He thought to himself, as he turned away and pretended to be focused on something else. However, he did enjoy listening to her sing. At first her voice was shy and broken, but it slowly became melodic as she got more comfortable.

As River walks into his fourth, and final, class of the day, he notices several empty seats. There were only ten students in the class, including himself. The students were all spread out over the classroom and none were talking to one another. They seemed perfectly content with not knowing, or trying to get to know each other in a friendly way. Four girls looked up at him as he entered the room, and one was focusing intently on a drawing. They waited in anticipation to see whom he would be sitting next to. Each of them silently prayed that he'd sit by them. There were four other boys as well. Two of them were asleep, one has his nose buried in a book, and the other was cleaning his glasses meticulously.

He took a seat next to the girl who was drawing, as he had recognized her from the bus ride to school. This time, she didnt notice him beside her at all.

"Hey, that's very good." He tells her leaning over his desk to get a better look at it. Her immediate discomfort was evident. She blushed and thanked him in a voice that was practically inaudible. As the teacher entered the classroom, the bell rang and she demanded each of their attention. The shy girl, however, went back to being focused on her drawing.

(P.O.V Change \= Amy)

As the bell rang, ending the day, she sprang up from her seat. Not only did she begin to feel increasingly awkward and in comparison, ugly, while sitting next to the new kid. She was quite excited to go to work. Everything was always so peaceful and quiet there. What she dreaded the most each day, was going home after work.

The library she worked at was about a mile from the school, and Amy enjoyed walking to work each day. Oddly enough, on her way to work today, she had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her. Each time she would turn around to check though, she found that she was only being needlessly paranoid. She put her headphones in to distract her from this feeling and walked the rest of the way listening to Halestorm's latest album.

After eight hours of work, Amy put away her finished drawing and began to lock up for the night. The night air was cold and Amy fumbled with her keys while locking the door. She could feel it again, someone's eyes on her. When she turned around, there was no one, again. She looked down both ends of the empty sidewalk. 'Maybe I'm loosing my mind, or perhaps Conrad has me entirely too paranoid to cope.'

She began her walk home in silence, as she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Feeling uneasy as she passed by a park, she felt tempted to sit on the swings and not go home at all. However, if she didnt hurry she knew she wouldnt have time to clean and cook dinner.

With a sigh, she soon turned onto her driveway, pondering what kind of mood Conrad would be in tonight. She put her headphones away, kicking at a few stones as she made her way down the long winding dirt pathway in the dark. There was a new moon tonight and the entire pathway had an ominous feeling about it. On her left side was thick forest, and on her right and open field. She began to hum softly to herself so as to shake away her nerves. To her left, in the thick treeline something caught her eye. It was large and blacker than the night around her. It moved so quickly and yet when she stopped to get a closer look, she saw nothing but perfect stillness. She hadnt heard any leaves rustle, nor twigs breaking. Any creature that size would've made a definite sound. She began to think she was going mad and tried to dismiss it.

A shiver of discomfort mixed with pure fright ran up her spine and she looked toward the house, afraid to move at all. No crickets nor birds were chirping, no hooting owls nor a single frog croaking. It was dead silent, and nothing moved, not even the trees. It seemed the wind itself was waiting to see what would happen next. The house was roughly one hundred meters away from her. Her heart was beating dangerously fast, and her skin was covered in goosebumps. Then she saw it again, a shadow amongst shadow, moving swiftly and silently through the trees. She took off running toward the house, and to her disbelief she made it to the front door without any problems. Whatever was out there, it wasnt chasing her. Although it did seem to be watching her, or at the very least aware of her presence. As she looked back over the yard, there was nothing, only silence. Her eyebrows pulled together, and she quickly walks through the front door. 'I have definitely got a few screws loose or something..' Even though nervous was a general behavioral trait of hers, today it seemed to be out of hand. Walking into the house, there was the open kitchen to her right, and the living room to her left. On the far side of the kitchen, next to a sliding glass door, was the dining area. To her immediate left was a short hallway leading to her room and it extended out to the right which led to a bathroom and Conrad's bedroom. Standing there in the entry way in shock, she took in the cleaned house. Conrad was relaxing on the sofa watching TV. 'Did he actually clean today? I cant even imagine that...'

"How was work?" He asked her, taking in her shocked expression.

"It was fine. What are you in the mood for tonight?" She asks setting her bag down by the door and kicking off her shoes before heading into the kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen there was a door leading into a walk-in pantry. She began looking through it, as she waited for his answer. However, after a moment of silence she began to wonder if he had heard her question at all. Turning around to go ask him again she jumped in fright. He was standing in the doorway, quietly scrutinizing her. As he cocked his head to the side in contemplation, she cleared her throat nervously. The look in his eyes disturbed her to her very core.

"I want chicken parmesan, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Should be some in the freezer out back." He was looking deeply into her eyes as he spoke.

"Yes sir." She picked up a bag of potatoes and looked up at him confused by the intensity of his gaze. He was still standing in the way, staring at her. "I-is there something wrong, sir?"

He pouted a bit, his eyes flickering away from hers as he spoke, "Amanda, you look just like your mother. Did you know that?"

"Yes I know. Is...that a bad thing?" She asked shifting her weight to one leg.

"Of course not, sweetheart. You're beautiful...Very beautiful." His voice was low and his gaze seemed distant, as if he were looking right through her instead of at her. A short moment of silence passed before he finally moved away from the doorway and back to the couch. Making her way outside, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. On the back porch was a second fridge and a deep freezer. She grabbed the corn and chicken and went about cooking dinner and cleaning up after herself as she did. That day went by just like any other, surprisingly without any further strange behavior on Conrad's behalf.

That Friday afternoon, Amy was putting books away on their assigned shelves. As she did so, she was lost in thought about how she would get through the weekend once again. She doesnt work on weekends so that means two days of her and Conrad alone together. Her lack of friends made it hard for her to find a reason to leave the house.

"Excuse me Miss, can I get a library card?" A male voice asked as she was putting the last book away.

"Yes sir, of c-" When she turned around to greet him she recognized him immediately. "Follow me.." Blushing, she put her head down and quickly brushed past him toward the front desk. Opening the desk drawer, she pulled out a card. "Name?" She asked him looking at the computer as she filled in his information.

"River Skyle." He smiled at her, making her blush deeper as she tried to focus on the screen.

"Date of birth?" She asked with her eyes glued to the screen, too embarrassed by his presence alone to find the courage to look at his perfect face. He hesitated for a long moment. He then gave her a date, but to her the amount of time he took to give it was a bit suspicious. When she finally looked up at him, he was biting his lip nervously. She found this so incredibly cute, that she pushed all her suspicion aside. "Just sign the bottom of the card there, and its all yours." She slid him a sharpie and the card.

"Thank you, Amanda." He signed it, returned the marker, and slid the card into his back pocket. Her wide eyes regarded him curiously.

"How did you know my name?" She asked not bothering to hide the shock in her voice.

He winked at her, "I asked around." He informs her leaning on the desk and half smiling at her.

"O-oh. Well I prefer to be called Amy. Only my step dad calls me Amanda." Even her teachers and her boss called her Amy. It was the nickname her mother had given her. They were the closest things to friends that she had and so she made sure they knew to call her by her nickname instead. Rivers crooked smile had her mesmerized, as she found herself staring at him awkwardly.

"Well then, thankyou Amy. Have a good night." He turned around and left. Mortified that she had come off slow, she started to wonder why he came in for a card but didn't bother looking for a book. One look at the clock answered her question. It was closing time. Grabbing her bag, she turned out the lights and locked the doors. She thought about River on her walk home. He was so handsome, like a model or a greek god. She felt that he was almost too perfect, or atleast his looks were. Blushing bright red at the thought of him asking around about her, she frowned. 'I cant imagine what kinds of things people said about me. I'm sure it wasnt good. I wonder what someone with his good looks is doing in our rinky-dink town. Perhaps he is an actor trying to live a normal life...or a model from another country.'

Walking into her house, her jaw dropped. The place was clean, spotless actually. There were candles lit, and flower arrangements in three different locations. Dinner was also waiting on her, and for a moment she considered re-entering the house to make sure she wasnt delusional. Twice in a matter of one week Conrad actually helped clean, but this was a bit extravagant to say the least.

"Uh, Dad?!" She called out for Conrad. Even though she hated calling him that, he would often tell her, he prefers it. What he didnt tell her was that she reminds him too much of her mother when she uses his name.

"Right here." He said emerging from the hall bathroom with a towel around his waist. Steam was rising off his skin and a few drops of water were hitting the floor at his feet.

With a shiver, she averted her gaze. "You didnt have to cook. I would've done it."

"I figured that you deserved a break. You work hard everyday, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. I wanted to show my appreciation." He smiled at her. This behavior...was very unlike him.

To her, his smile looked almost mocking. Anger bubbled up inside her. After all she hated it when he acted this way. That is because it was only an act. He doesnt mean it. That much she was sure of. His mood swings were putting her in a permanent state of whiplash. 'Sometimes I really cant tell if he loves me or hates me.' She thinks wishing she had the guts to ask him out loud.

Yet, with a sigh, she thanked him. She refused to look at him and turned to go to her room. Hoping he wouldnt find her behavior rude. "You're welcome, my dear. Dont let your food get cold." He told her headed for his own room. When he closed his door, she stopped and went to the table to eat. She actually enjoyed getting to eat dinner alone and in silence. The food was good too. Still, she was waiting for something bad to happen.

After dinner, she took a shower and did her homework. At about 11 o'clock, she opened up one of her bedroom windows and lit a doobie. Conrad often brought her some weed when he got it for free, due to buying much harder drugs in bulk. Sometimes he would get it for her upon her request but that was rare. The fact that he was willing to give it to her made her feel as though she had, even in the smallest, a piece of his trust. At the very least he had a level of understanding that she needed a vice to unwind. Especially since he had no room to lecture her about drug use.

The temperature outside was steadily dropping and the moon hanging in the sky only shined a dim light over the woods behind the house. She pulled a blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her as she sat in the floor smoking. She held each hit in as long as she could, waiting for its medicinal properties to kick in. Soon she felt lifted and numb, as if her worries had melted away. This was the most relaxing way to deal with all of her stress toward Conrad and toward herself. After a while she figured she was in the clear, and that he wouldnt pick a fight with her that night afterall. Soon she crawled into bed and turned out her lamp, slowly drifting off to sleep.