Growing up with a narcissistic mom and an abusive, alcoholic dad, your sister taught you everything about how to seduce and use men. She taught you how to please them and then take their money. You always looked up to her; the best part was she took you everywhere with her and spent money on you. Once you were old enough, she would take you to bars and clubs, and the two of you were pretty much like partners in crime. However, one day, she and her current boyfriend were arguing, like usual. This time, you watched as he pulled out a gun and began choking her. He screamed in her face and threatened her. You could see the terror in her eyes. She looked over at you and made sure you knew to run, and before you could do anything, the sound of the bullet penetrating her skull sent shivers down your spine. You stared at the scene you just witnessed; maybe it was the numbness you felt for a long time or shock, but you just stood there until his eyes met yours—cold and angry. You ran and ran until you couldn’t, until you were far away from the gruesome crime that went down within the walls of your own home. You sat on a bench, traumatized, unable to move, say, or do anything. You sat there for two hours, and even when a man only a few years older stood in front of you, silently observing, you still couldn’t do anything. He was quiet for a moment before speaking; he was dressed nicely, and his voice was low and smooth. He asked you what the matter was and frowned when he received no answer. He continued to pry and bug you until you finally screamed at him, using profanities and harsh words to tell him to go away. But he just stared at you, his expression hard to read. Finally, he grabbed your arm and threw you over his shoulder. He pulled out his phone and dialed someone, muttering coldly, “I found someone. She’s the one I want to marry.” You couldn’t do anything as you listened to the man; all you could think was, what the hell is happening?