When I woke up, the brightness of the day had now darkened to a magenta sunset, still visibly cloudy. I was still huddled in the same spot, and decided that this would be the night that I went to a hotel. The temperature was unusually low for this time in October, and I couldn't control the freezing shivers that were sent throughout my body. Slowly, I stood up, each part of my body aching, but my ribs hurting the worst. Harry had been right; I looked like Barney due to my bruises all over my flesh.

Brushing myself off, I clutched my shirt in my hand, using the other to pull my jacket closer to my goosebumped skin. I hiked the mile through the woods that took me back to across the street where Harry lived. I noticed that all of the lights were out at his place, meaning that he went to bed extremely early or -the most likely reason- he was out partying or doing something along those lines.

Suddenly remembering my first and hopefully -yet for an odd reason, sadly- the last time that I had seen him, I urged my footsteps quicker passed his flat. The lightness of the day was quickly fading away, being replaced by nighttime. My stomach grumbled and muttered to itself, telling me that it desperately needed food.

I continued walking quickly, past the families eager to return to the safety of their home after a busy day in London. Wincing, I felt my ribs and stopped to examine them more closely. When I was positive that no one was around, either driving away or distant in the shops, I lifted my -I mean, Harry's- shirt and found that a bandage was wrapped around my entire torso. It caressed the broken ribs that were now slightly visible through my skin, due to my lack of food and constant hunger.

Finally, after walking for a few miles in the bitter cold, I reached my destination. It was a small five-story hotel with quite a few cars in the parking lot. I rushed through the doors with warmth pressing against me, along with a soft melody of music swimming in my ears. I turned my head to find a lady sitting behind of a high desk-like counter, studying my appearance with concern.

"How may I help you?" She asked, making her best attempt to avoid staring at the bruises and cuts along my body. She looked kind enough for me to be at least halfway polite to her, despite my horrid mood. I was always the kind of person that had a good temper, able to control my emotions well. However, I hardly ever immediately treated anyone with my best manners unless my judgement told me that they were nice.

"I need to rent a room for tonight," I said, unnecessarily quiet, for there wasn't anyone in the lobby. "I would like the cheapest room that you have, please." My elbows rested on the grey counter, watching as she scrolled through her computer with her eyes scanning the screen.

She kept her eyes glued to the computer, but spoke to me in a gentle, yet overly excited tone. "Okay, there is a room on the fifth floor for one hundred pounds a night." Her British accent was thick, and for an odd reason, it was difficult to understand.

Nodding, I reached my hand in my pocket to grip the money. Slipping it to her, I said, "Okay, I will go on and pay now." She graciously took it, pressing a few buttons on various machines and carefully putting the money away. Then, she reached for a room card, swiping it across a machine to give it the power of opening my room.

"Your room number is five-oh-three." She handed the card to me with a smile before returning her eyes back to the computer. "We have free dinner buffets which will close at eight, so you have about two hours. There are is also a free breakfast in the morning as well, from six to ten. Several items are on each hall in the main room, such as washing machines and vending machines. It will be right when you walk out of the elevator; you can't miss it."

I muttered a thank you before accepting the room key and heading towards the elevator. Temptation to quickly go to the buffet washed through me, but I decided that I needed to at least clean up properly first. Pressing the number 5 on the elevator wall, I rested my head back as the door closed with a click and I felt myself moving upwards.

As I exited the enclosed space, a woman in her thirties held the diminutive hands of two small children that looked like twins. "Watch out, Jack." She pulled the small boy closer to her side, clearing enough space for me to walk by. I gave each of them a smile, waving to the little girl that was apparently named "Denise" when she waved to me with her free hand, her fingers expanding.

They all got in the elevator before the door closed, and I turned around and saw a large room to my left. There, -just as the lady had said- a washing machine and dryer were silent from being unused, and several other machines were in there as well.

To my right was an opening that led two separate ways down a long corridor lined with lamps and closed doors. Following the correct sign, I took a left and eventually found my way to my room. The number 503 was engraved into the door, just above a small peep hole.

Shoving the key into an open slot, it made a small sound before a soft click indicated that it had been locked. I opened the door, gawking at the room before me. It was incredibly nice, with two luxurious beds, a television, a comfortable chair, and a few other accessories.

There was no way this room was only one hundred dollars.

I decided to first take a shower, so I could rush down to the buffet. The water made a loud rushing sound as it pounded onto the slick floor of the tub. After removing my clothes, I saw in the mirror how much weight I had lost. And how beat-up my body was. I removed the bandages carefully, flinching slightly. As I climbed into the shower, the warm water relaxed me and felt so lovely against my dirty figure.

It was a shame that this is where I ended up whilst I was eighteen. When I was young, my dad would always tell me that I could be anything I wanted to be. And what I wanted to be was an artist. Drawing was a way that I let out all of my buried emotions, putting them on a scribbled world. However, instead, I was homeless.

My mother and father always got along well, and my younger sister -Annabelle, who was 13- looked up to me and didn't act like the regular annoying little sister did. It was a tragedy that struck us all when my dad and Annabelle were killed instantly in a car accident on the way home from Annabelle's dance class. She was a very talented dancer, flexible, and able to move perfectly to any beat that played.

When they died, my mother became a totally different person. Instead of being the healthy and active woman that I always admired her for, she locked herself in her room, changing with each passing second. Morphing into an unrecognizable addict that would let the drugs and drinks get the best of her, causing her to no longer act as a mother should. It's horrible what just one tragedy can do to someone.

Of course, I still loved her. However, there was hardly any money left without my father working, and it was only enough for one person. So I allowed that person to be my mother, wasting the treasured cash on things that were killing her each time that she allowed it in her system.

After spending at least thirty minutes in the shower, I felt refreshed and decided to finally get out. I dried off, placing my undergarments back on. Just as I finished wrapping my middle back up, there was a knock on the room door. Hastily pulling a random white robe from a hook on the bathroom, I opened the bathroom door and opened the room door without looking to see who it was.

A man stood there in a vest, indicating that he worked here, with a rather large box in both of his hands. "Ms. Marielle Wonder?" He asked, confirming my name. I nodded slowly, giving him a questioning look. He held out his arms, stretching the box towards me as he said, "This is for you, ma'am."

Hesitantly, I accepted it and studied the white covered box. "Who is it from?" It was wrapped carefully with a red bow placed on top. How this man knew my name blew my mind, and I was astonished that I had a 'gift' because I knew no one in this town.

"A gentlemen gave it to me in the lobby, but I'm afraid that I don't know his name or what's in the lovely wrapped box." His reply made me tilt my head from side to side, with my brow arched in a puzzled state.

"Erm, okay..." My voice slowly trailed off, and with the slight tip of his hat, he walked back down the hall towards where the elevator was located. I closed the door, still pondering what the contents of the box might be. There wasn't a tag on it anywhere, so eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I sat it on the bed, opening it.

My jaw dropped to the floor with my eyes widened when I saw what what there.

A royal blue strapless dress with sequins covering the entire thing was folded neatly so it wouldn't wrinkle. Black heels were there as well, along with matching black earrings and a necklace. Placed amongst all of these exquisite items was a white piece of folded paper. I reached for it, unfolding it and reading the words scribbled hastily with black ink.

Marielle,
Meet me in the lobby at 6:45 wearing this...unless, of course, you don't want to wear anything. See you soon, Wonder-woman. Xx
-Harry

Fear raced through my veins, along with annoyance and anger. How the hell did he know my room number, and more importantly, that I was even in a hotel? Glancing at a small clock that rested on the wooden nightstand between the two beds, I saw that it was 6:40pm exactly. Thoughts crossed my mind, filled with worry and doubt. Running back to the bathroom, I halfway closed it before kneeling over the toilet. Knots that were spiraling around with churning circles made my stomach feel sick. After all, I still had the flu anyways.

Finally feeling composed, I managed to stand back up and rest my palms on the sink counter without releasing any of the nonexistent food in my belly. It still growled with hunger, but I didn't want to go anywhere near the lobby. Several minutes passed as I just stood there, standing at the silent faucet.

"I see that you have ignored my generous offer?" I jumped, turning my head to find Harry standing there in a blazer and trousers, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. An angry smirk twisted his lips upwards, again, making fear and rage bubble within me.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, still shocked as my heart was beating faster. He gave a simple shrug of his shoulders before replying. "I told the lady in the lobby to give me a key because I was worried what was taking my lady friend so long for our date."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you," I scowled, forcefully pushing my shoulder into his as I brushed past him, heading towards the one bed that didn't consist of his gift. Before I got much farther, he grabbed me from behind and pressed his front to my back, giving a dark chuckle.

"I'm afraid that you don't always get what you want, sweet heart." My breath hitched in my throat as he shifted the soft material of the robe with his hand to where it revealed my shoulder. He kissed the bare, pale flesh tenderly, letting his lips linger there for a moment before mumbling, "Mmm."

My face crinkled with disgust and I dramatically pulled the robe back into its original position. Before I could say anything to his actions, he began moving his hand to the front of my waist, reaching to untie the robe strings that were in a loose knot. I smacked his hand away. "Watch it, Harry. I have a foot that I will gladly use to kick your disgusting dick if necessary."

His response was a devilish laugh. "You have another body part that you can use against my dick as well, you know."

I pulled away from his grip, shooting him a disgusted glare. My father would never treat my mother this way. I knew exactly how a man was supposed to treat a woman, and this wasn't it. The way his hands fondled my unwilling spirit sent a disgusted pleasure through me. Screw my dream. This guy was a pervert.

"Go away!" I nearly screamed at the top of my lungs. "First, you hit me with your car, then you try and...I don't know...Kidnap me and now you're stalking me, even after you told me to go away from you! Just leave me alone, you sick-" I was stopped as his palm harshly pressed against my lips. His emerald orbs shone with raging anger.

"Shut up, people will hear you!" He hissed, preventing me from replying. "I am trying to do something nice for you because it is obvious that you are a homeless, helpless girl that needs a night in shining armor. I may not be your idea of a prince, but you are my idea of quite a lovely princess. So just put the damn dress on because I'm taking you out whether you like it or not."

He eventually let go with a harsh jerk of his hand, sending my head backwards slightly. "I'm not homeless," I growled the obvious lie, shooting a glare at his entire figure. His curls were a lot higher than I remember them being, nearly in a quiff.

"Oh?" He raised is eyebrows, knowing as well that I told a false statement. "Then why did you go to the woods when you left my house and sleep there for several hours, then come to a hotel?"

"Remember, it's none of your business."

He simply chortled with a frightening, yet devastatingly beautiful smile that revealed dimples popping in his cheeks, along with plump crimson lips surrounding perfectly white, straight teeth. Who would've known that such a mesmerizing smile could let such sinister words escape them?

Stepping even closer than he already was, he commanded, "Put the dress on, now." I remained frozen to my place for a few moments. "Unless, of course, you want me to put it on for you." And with his hopeful threat, I decided to walk over to where the dress rested upon the sheets of the bed.

After I slipped into the bathroom with my hair still quite damp, I pulled the dress over my frame, shocked at how it fit perfectly. However, unfortunately, -but to Harry's pleasure- the dress only covered me until just below my bum at a tight fit. When I was at home, I wasn't exactly a skinny girl. My thighs would brush against each other as I walked, and I would often find myself pulling in my stomach as tightly as I could. Now, though, after my lack of food, I didn't need to suck in and my thighs didn't touch. To be honest, I felt as though I was too skinny and actually wanted to have more pounds on me than I did.

I placed the black earring and necklace on, at last pulling the black heels over my sore feet. After three days of being unconscious since the incident, my bruises were slowly healing and allowing my skin to return to its normal, pale color. The shower had definitely improved the wounds, making me look ten times better than what I did.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Harry stood up with a satisfied gape of his mouth. He stepped forwards and closed the gap between of us, brushing my damp, dark hair away from my crystal blue orbs. "You are very attractive."

Although I didn't want to, I blushed from the complement. However, when I saw his delicate lips puckering slightly and aiming for mine as he leaned closer, I snapped myself out of my trance and turned my head at the last second, making him kiss my cheek. He frowned with an aggravated acrimony evident in his features, but I ignored it.

I had never had my first kiss. As strange as it sounded for my age, I didn't let it bother me because I had never found a guy good enough to kiss. And Harry was obviously not good enough, either.

His hands tugged at my hips with his lips, again, pressing against my bare shoulders, making me cringe. He pulled me in the direction of the door, saying with a warning tone, "Don't try to get away from me tonight, babe. I told you to go earlier today, but I don't always mean what I say."

When we stepped out into the hallway, he let the door close behind of him and shoved the room key into his pocket. He reached for my hand and held it in a tight grasp, but I wouldn't allow our fingers to intertwine. He sighed at my stubbornness and we walked towards the elevator.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we waited for the silver, shiny door to open. My stomach rumbled again, and I remembered the buffet downstairs. My mouth watered at the very thought of food.

"First, I'm taking you to a restaurant for some food because you look anorexic. Despite what all the girls in this world think, guys like a bit of meat on women because it gives them curves." I didn't know whether or not to be offended because of his comment or not, so I simply let him continue. "Then, I'm going to take you to the club because even though nothing about you is my business, I can always tell when a girl needs a drink."

He winked as the elevator door opened and we stepped in. His grip on my hand never loosened, and I wanted desperately to just be in the hotel room alone, and I honestly wished that I had never met him. He couldn't be my dream boy. Even though I knew that he was, I didn't want to believe it. In a distant thought that called me from the soft spot in my heart, I wanted to just give him a chance to change. But if my mother -the strongest person I knew- couldn't change, then no one could.

As the elevator plummeted towards the first floor, nothing but dread and fear filled my body and thoughts, along with worried anticipation about what would happen.