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SOLD! - to the man with the knife -

Dedicated to
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I'm writing this to tell you what happend to me at the age of four, going up to seventeen. I'm going to take you on my unbelivable journey about my tragic life. You see, I was taken away from my family, my home, my friends, basically my hole life, to go live another. My name is Evelyn. I'm not to sure about my last name to be completley truthful. I use the basic Smith. These are my last words as I take you on the journey of my life.

I would like to explain that in my time, there were no locks, alarms or bolts on our houses. We had to leave the house with our own free will, and hope to come back, and everything will be fine. And this goes for everyone who lived when I was at the age of four. And we made the biggest mistake ever.

"Mum? Daddy?" I yelled up the stairs, a hell of alot of noise was coming from outside and inside the house.

"HONEY?" My mum shouted down to me while I could here my dad mumble something under his breath. There were cars and guns and light flickering and setting off all over the place.

"MUM!" I couldn't controll my voice, "MUMMY I'M SCARED!" At the age of four, my house was being invested with theifs and kid nappers.

"SWEETY, I WILL...I WILL BE DOWN IN A MINUTE, HIDE SOMEWHERE!"

"MUM!" I cried at her. I ran into the kitchen and through out the bin and hid under the sink. My hole body was shaking under the panick and drama.

I sobbed into my knees as I listen to all the havock going on around me. I sobbed 'mummy' and 'daddy' every so often as tears pour down my face. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew it was bad. Rain was pattering on the roof of the house that was raded with theifs. There were draws being opend and shut, shouting and bullets being shot. How did this all happen? Well in this time, things are no safer than leaving an unlocked shop for any one to walk into.

A bullet sounded through the kitchen, they must be close to finding me now. I buried my head in my hands as I thought of the fact that the bullet that had just been shot, could of gone straight through my parents. I screamed for my mum and dad and burst out the cubberd. I stomped my feet at top speed and kept screaming for my parents. A red and orange glow was flickering through out the house. I could here my mum scream for my dad. That's when I started to cry. I cryed for my dad along with my mum, as a thunder of footsteps charged down the stairs and out of the front door.They were dressed in black, and my little developed eyes could only see the green eyes of the theif. I shouted for my mum, my voice echoing around the small house. There was more than one theif in here, and they havn't got what they wanted just yet. I banged on the banisters, hoping my mum or dad would hear me and come down to my aid, but no one did. I made my way up the stairs.

As I got up to the landing, I could see my room raded with theifs. All shooting each other, trying to get to my possesions. "MUMMY! THEY'RE IN MY ROOM!" I yelled over the racket.

Bad mistake..

Every theif in that room looked straight at me, all of them, glaring at me. "THAT'S MY ROOM!" I cried and stomped my feet and cried.

"Evelyn? EVELYN! Don't! Go down!" My mum sobbed after me as I travled my way into their room. "GO!  Go down stairs and hide honey, It's not safe anymore!" As I disobeyd my mum, I peaked my head round the door and saw my dad lay in my mums arms. I didn't understand what had just happend. Blood was tricking down from his cheak. I didn't know what to say, I just ran and cried,

"DADDY!" My mums hand pushed me away from hugging my dad. I didn't understand...what was she doing? That was my dad!

The room was tipped upside down. Draws, files, everything was out of place. I grabbed my mums hand and held it up to my face, practicaly hugging it. "I WANT MY DADDY!" I cried hystericaly, my yelling, with a faint rumble at the back of my throat. My mum started to cry and stroke my dads head as he lay still, but alive, in her arms. I knelt to the floor, crawling to look at my dad better.

"Sweet heart," he said, trying to lift a hand, but my mum pushed it back down.

"Rest," she whispered to him.

"Evelyn," I heard my dads voice crackle.

I looked at him blankly, what was he doing? My mum saw my face expression and shook her head, her eyes a ball of red and blotchyness, a stream of tears running down her face. My dad was no better looking himself. He had been shot in the cheak, and was on a constant bleed.

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