Chapter One: Liliana

                                    

                                          
Notes: There are elements in this chapter that I, as a human, do not condone, nor can I justify anyone committing these unspeakable actions. Please, please, please seek out help if you have ever been a victim.
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, child abuse, thwarted attempted murder of a young child, rape, bullying
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Characters Mentioned in Chapter:
Liliana Dove (Ortega) Castellucci - main character
Maria Renée Ortega ńee Hulbert (formerly Castellucci) - is referred to as Mom or Ma'am
Luca Ortega -  is referred to as Master, Dad, Daddy, and stepdad, him
Josh Higgins - a school-yard bully and a self-proclaimed bad boy in the same grade as Liliana
Unnamed boy - a crony of Josh Higgins and a classmate of Liliana's
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Set fifteen years after Chapter Zero...
Liliana's POV
I slung the backpack over my shoulder, ignoring the tears that sprang to my eyes as the strap dug into the large bruise that had formed there overnight. It hurt, but it wasn't excruciating, or if it was, I had to act like it wasn't. I knew the consequences of appearing weak in front of him.
I should start from the beginning instead of jumping straight into it. 
Okay, deep breath, here goes.
Hi, hello, I am Liliana Dove (yes, you read that right, Dove, like the bird), Ortega, and I am 15 years old. I live in New Haven, Connecticut, with my stepdad, Luca, and Mom, Maria. I have no siblings, full or otherwise, or cousins, as both Ma'am and Master are only children, and I am the only child. You might be wondering why I just called my parents Master and Ma'am instead of Daddy or Dad and Mom like most other kids my age, but I assure you it was an intentional slip-up on my part and not a mistake or a teasing nickname. To call them anything else would be a horrendous mistake on my part. Master had made that clear years ago, and Mom hated it when I called her "Mom," so I had resorted to referring to her as Ma'am to appease her, too. 
You see, I made that mistake once when I was really young in front of my stepdad, and the lesson I learned that day was one I had never, ever forgotten. If he ever had to introduce me to someone, he always introduced me as his "daughter," so it was weird for him to be so adamant to me that he wasn't my father. Though he had been high and drunk at that moment, and so he probably wasn't even aware of what he was saying, and I hadn't stayed in the room long enough to question it. I just thought about it a lot later.
But anyway, back to the present, I quietly made my way out the front door, careful not to wake Master or Ma'am up from where they lay in the living room. They were both passed out drunk from their binge drinking session last night, and I hoped to keep it that way until I was at school. I would worry about them this afternoon- as I did every afternoon- when the time came. But my focus now was getting out of the house without waking them and making it to school on time- I was already running late, and it was raining outside, which meant the trek to school would be even more traitorous. 
Ma'am said she never wanted kids, let alone an ungrateful daughter (though that wasn't the word she used), so instead of having a mother who got excited about the first day of school- or any day of school- or helping choose outfits for picture day, I was left to get ready for school all by myself. She always told me that she wished I had drowned as a toddler, and that she still resented the landlord showing up for a surprise inspection and pulling me from the pool, effectively saving my life. That's how much being a mother meant to her. But in those tense moments Ma'am had put on a convincing act of being a frantic mother and the police chalked it up as a moment of inattentiveness on her part and never pursued it once I had been deemed both healthy and safe. The act dropped the moment the last fireman and police officer left.