Annabel, more commonly called anna, Thurston had more recently had her birthday. Making her sixteen. Though her father lost count, her teachers made sure she was reminded of it. Having her classmates sing to her. Some singing different words to the song after school. Telling a different tale that had nothing to do with her birth. About her father and her instead. Commenting on her looks as well as how poor they were. Several girls following her half way home, pulling down her skirt and publicly humiliating her as they pulled down more than just that. Whether they meant to or not. She almost didn't return home that day, but she knew better than to try her father's patience. So she ran. Getting out all tears before arriving home. Refusing to show any of it to her father as she went to work. Doing the same chores she was 'permitted' to do, as her father would tell her. Washing clothes, dishes, floors, walls. Whatever needed cleaning. Hand cleaning her father's car after he stripped of her clothes and gave her things that any normal father would never have let their daughter go out in. Saying that if she was going to work with filth, she should be<em>in</em>filth.<br/><br/>Whenever she went out, men would come out onto their porches to whistle and smoke. Just watching. As they were told to do by her father. Morning, day, or night. They would be there like clockwork. There had been times when she attempted to cover up with hoodies or sweaters. Her father would always take them away and question where she found them later on. The ladies of the catholic school she attended always gave them to her, insisting upon her having them to keep warm. No matter how cold it was out though, her father sent her out just the same. With no protective wears to speak of.<br/><br/>Though by the way they lived, one would think they were living off government funds, her father did work. Only temporary jobs for the most part. Heavy lifting here and there. Helping people move, unloading shipments to stores, etc. The rest of his time was spent drinking and smoking. Then the occasional outing would take him out on a street corner with prostitutes. Not to buy what they were selling, but to beat them to a pulp. Sometimes near killing them before heading home. Leaving his daughter to tend to herself. Never trusting with her with money. He barely fed her, and she would have been starving were it not for her school system which served both breakfast and lunch.<br/><br/>Today was no different from any other. She went to school in her uniform. A white short sleeve shirt, a pleated gray skirt that hung just above her knees, a matching necktie. Attended her classes. As she came out though, she saw that there was a curious figure standing there. At the entrance. She was hesitant to go onward from there. She wasn't fond of confrontation of any sort. So she attempted to fall back a little into the group that followed her. She walked on the far side, away from him, but then their eyes met and she started to rush in panic. Hearing him speak, she kept on going past him. Even if his words were for her, she had no intentions of responding. She had enough on her hands without accounting for random strangers. Though as she went on, several things fell behind her. Her bag had a hole in it. For whatever reason. Someone might have cut it there during class, or it might have just have worn out after how long she had been using it. Either way, it had those nearest to her laughing and pointing.