It’s predominantly a male name. When I was born with a pussy, he decided to keep it.
I’ve gone by Eve for as long as I can remember. It was a hard pill to swallow to find out that I’d never live up to my name’s expectations. Who I was supposed to be. Someone who’d make my father proud. The sad thing is that I wanted to for the longest time. To be what he wanted. To be accepted. I’ve never belonged to someone. I was born for a purpose but ended up being useless. Then I was tossed to the side and raised for evil reasons.
My life would have been different had I been born with a dick. Easier.
At least I like to think so. A woman can dream, can’t she?
There’s a lot of my childhood that I’ve blocked out. Chosen not to remember. But after I tried to end my life the first time, I became useless to our world. So my father gave me away. No,threwme away is more like it.
I spent a year in hell before a man came along and saved me. I’ve called himDadever since. He saved my life more than once. I’m lucky he came along when he did. Who knows where I’d be if not for him?
Dead. No questions asked. Because I would have done it differently the next time, and I would have made sure it worked. A person can only take so much before they break. And I’ve been so close to broken that death was the only alternative.
Acceptanceis such a weird word. Like why do you need to be accepted? Why do you want to be loved? It’s overrated. Love comes and goes and so do my mood swings. One moment I want to cry my eyes out to an Adele song, thinking I’ll be single the rest of my life, and the next I’m thanking my lucky stars I don’t have to answer to anyone.
Life is all about balance.
Good and evil. Heaven andhell. Crazy and sane.
Why not be both?
Statistics show that more than thirty-six murderers walk past you during your lifetime. Do you ever wonder why they don’t choose you? I do. All the time. Do they choose victims by their looks? How they act? Is it someone they know, or do they pick at random?
I’m a loner. I stick to myself. I’d be an easy choice, honestly. No one would go looking for me. Well, that’s not true. My dad would notice. But other than that, no one would care.
That’s why I agreed to join him for dinner tonight. Something we never do. I stay away from him because he had another family that I had to hide from. Story of my life. It never bothered me before. But now he’s married another woman and wants us all to be one big, happy family.
I pull my car up to the mansion and get out, straightening my dress. It makes me uncomfortable being here. I’m not used to this part of their world.
The money.
The class.
I’m used to the basements, chains, and blood.
I grew up differently from most of the women in the society. I’ve watched behind the scenes for years as women became chosens and Ladies. The sadpart is, I was jealous.
I wanted to be a chosen—belong to one man. But I was born for a purpose that I can’t even fulfill. Not anymore. It was a decision I had to make, and I’ve come to terms with it.
The front double doors open, and I sigh when I see the pretty blonde stepping outside onto the porch. “Everett, I thought that was you. Please come in.”
Giving her a fake smile, I walk up the stone steps in a pair of black spiked Louboutins. They were a gift from my dad. Said he saw them and instantly thought of me using them to kick a man in the balls. Have to love a father who encourages your rage.
“Hello, Janice. It smells lovely,” I tell her, entering the house, though I know she didn’t make it. Her staff did. I can’t be mean to her, though. She’s been so nice and welcoming to me and the man I choose to call Dad.
“Thank you. Please make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes, please.” I’d take a whole bottle of whatever she has, but that would make me look like a lush. One drink can’t hurt. She did offer.
Janice walks off toward the kitchen, her heels clapping on the marble floor, and I nervously slide my hand down my dress. A bad habit that I wish I could break. I hate looking weak or nervous, but I’m not a family type of girl. Yet here I am, willingly accepting an offer to have dinner with my family. At least, that’s what my dad called it when he phoned me yesterday. I couldn’t resist. He wants everything to be perfect for his newwife.
So I obliged and promised to indulge him by showing up to this dinner. I wish I had someone who cared about me as much.
The doors open behind me, and I hear laughter as I turn around to see two familiar faces. They don’t know who I am, but I know them.
“Oh, hello.” The bleached blonde smiles at me.
The man holding her hand looks me up and down with apprehension. He knows I don’t belong. That I’m no one. “Who the hell are you?” he asks. His hard tone mirrors what I’m thinking.
