Not your typical story

Belladonna's POV (for most of the story)

I woke on my tiny bed in pitch black darkness. I am used to it, the darkness was always there for me, always comforting. I sat up and looked at the electric clock. The red numbers read "12:01". The end of one day for normal people, and the start of my day. I put on my usual clothes, black jeans and a black hoodie. I had a dresser full of nothing but those, and of course underwear and bras. They were the only thing I had here as my own positions, nothing else. I slipped on my old, but somehow still holding together, black Vans. Yeah typical for teenagers nowa days, but I'm far from typical. I walked out of the tiny room, down the hall way, to what I guess you could call a living room, but there was hardly any "living" done there. I live in a tiny house with Shawn. He is...kinda like my boss. I have been living with him for about 6 years. I am basically a slave to him. I do what he asks of me, but nothing sexual. He tried that once, and well had to get stitches. I walk in to the kitchen area, and start to set up the coffee pot. Shawn gets mad when I don't do it. I looked on the table for my list of things he wants me to do today.
"Belladonna,

You are to do the usual, start coffee, make your bed, then when I wake up we will talk."

I knew the "we will talk" part meant I had to go spend my time doing something that was of impotence to him., I dreaded it. Don't, my mind snapped, he OWNS us. Do you know what that means?! He could KILL us if he wanted to. I hear him start to wake up. I hated the fact that someone "owns" me, but I am tied to him, till I am dead.

No I am not a whore, or anything like that, and no Shawn is not my pimp. I am simply a slave. He has..."control" over me because my dad had owed him a lot of money and paid with me. At first Shawn was pissed at the idea of having another mouth to feed, but since I seemed to appear a sweet innocent 16 year old, at the time, he knew he would be able to have his drugs, money, whatever, distributed fairly easy and no one would think of me. That is what I have been doing for 6 years, running drugs, money, guns, you name I have ran it across this shitty little town, and NEVER been caught.

Shawn came walking out in boxers. I will give him this, he don't look THAT bad for a 30 year old druggie. He walks to coffee pot, makes a cup then stops and stand in front of me. I look down to the floor. Rule number one: no eye contact, unless permitted other wise. "Sit," he demands. I obey. Everything in me screams to defy, but I know what he is capable of doing, I have seen it, I have felt it. "Ok so today you are not going to be running anything," I mentally sigh a sigh or relief. I HATE running things. The people I end running it to make my skin crawl. I knew this was a two part deal, good thing first, bad thing last, "but you will be doing something very different, and if you fail to do this "thing" correctly, you won't have to worry about me coming after you." Bam! There is the bad part. "Ok," I simply say. I want so badly to ask what it is, or who I need to be more scared of, but that will earn my slap across the face. Rule 2: NEVER ask anything about the "job". "You will go meet this guy CC, he will fill you in on what you need to know. Now get ready, I will give you his address." Shawn never gives me directions, I found my way around this town real quick. I know by the basic numbers or street name where I can generally find the place. I had to become street smart the moment I stepped in to Shawn's home.

I stood up. I really didn't like the feeling I got from this "talk". I knew I would die if I didn't even try to do this thing.

Notes

Just a tiny hook...