Page 1 of Blinded By Love

Prologue

Jaclyn

Four Years Ago

“You’re a fucking bitch you know that? I don’t know why anyone would want to be in a relationship with a manipulative whore like you, Anne,” my dad says from the passenger seat while I block everything he’s saying out of my mind.

We’re in a parking lot, just finished with lunch.

My dad saw that Mateo, my mom’s boyfriend, texted her, and my dad got pissed and started calling her all kinds of names.

When he’s around it’s better to just stay in your head and pretend you’re somewhere else. That’s what I’ve learned since I started seeing him again after the incident on New Year's one year ago. I still haven’t forgiven him but he offered to give me and my mom money if we would hang out with him.

It’s kind of like a buy off. He sees me and pays my mom five hundred to one thousand just to see me. But after every “hangout” we have, it would end in a fight like this on the to him off at his apartment.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Danny. You’re just mad I won’t fuck you. You’re supposed to be nice in front of your daughter. Instead you're just acting like an ass. Are you on drugs again or somthing? What is it this time? Meth or coke?”

“At least I can find a nice good bitch who isn’t a gypsy like you. She’ll treat me with some fucking respect,” he says before speaking more slurs in Romanian which I can’t understand.

My eyes widen because I can’t believe he just called her that.

Being a Romanian and calling a woman a gypsy is equal to calling someone of color a slur. My dad calling her a bitch or whore doesn’t bother me because he says those things all the time but he only ever calls her a gypsy when he is on something, like right now probably.

My mom always told me that if anyone ever called me that to slap them across the face.

“And then you,” my dad turns around to look at me. I clench my phone in my hand and pull my bag close to me. “You’ll end up being a fucking whore and stripper next to your mother if you keep having that kind of attitude. And don’t even get me started on that fucking disease you have. You’ll start getting fatter in no time.”

A ball forms in my throat and tears form in my eyes.

I know I’ve gained some weight since being diagnosed but I didn’t think it was that noticeable.

“Danny!” my mom yells but I get out of the car and run away towards the opposite end of the parking lot.

I run until I can’t hear him and my mom yelling anymore. I grip my bag against my side and run until I am out of breath.

I tend to run a lot when things get to be too much. It’s the only thing that ever makes sense in my head. Shut everything out and just pretend you’re by yourself and you’ll be okay.

It’s better being alone anyways.

I find a dark alley to hide in until my mom texts me, telling me he left. Tears fall from my eyes as his words repeat in my head. He always has to ruin a good day.

All he does is ruin everything and then later on he'll text me or call my mom non-stop to apologize and say he was drunk. Cycles like this never end with him. It started happening when I was old enough to decide I wanted to see him. Every time he saw my mom and I, he wanted to give us money.

I never wanted the money though. I just wanted someone to love me.

I wanted someone to chase the monsters away when I was little and protect that little girl with his life. When I was a baby, I was his printesa. He would do everything for her but in the background he was the monster my mom was afraid of.

She never likes talking about him or how they met. Whenever I ask about their relationship she always brushes it off and says she never loved him and only married him because they had me.

She told me it was the worst decision she ever made, marrying him.

“You look pathetic when you cry.” I hear someone say, making me turn my head to the side. A boy enters the alley, looking mean and cruel. He looks young like me and I hate how he is so attractive yet rude because I would like him if he was nicer. “Are you going to say something or are you going to ignore me and continue crying like a child?”

I wipe the tears from my face and try to calm down my breathing and rapid heartbeat. I just need to relax.

“Nobody asked you to stare at me like a weirdo, so just leave,” I say in a nasty tone, not in the mood to deal with anyone.

I just wanna go home and pretend everything is okay by reading because reading and writing my thoughts down are the only things that seem to make me happy anymore.

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