Living With A Killer

Staring at the bright full moon in the night sky, it stares blankly back at me. My eyes closed, images come back to me like a ton of bricks; images of the worst day of my life. A single tear rolled down my small cold cheek.

Georgina, my social worker, will be coming round tomorrow to see how I am and how well Joe, my foster dad, is looking after me. Georgina said that he has to care for me, feed me and love me. He doesn't. Instead he hits me, kicks me and beats me, he feeds me once a week if I'm lucky and he doesn't love me. Most 7 year olds have lots of friends and a loving family to go home to. Not me. Instead I come home to a drunken Joe and his friends that try to rape me. No one at school likes me so I don't have any friends or anyone to tell my problems to.

I'll never talk them. I'll never talk to anyone about that day. I haven't spoken since I was 3. I haven't spoken since my parents died...

6am. That's the time I wake up every morning. Slowly I walk down the stairs not making a sound. As I get to the door I see Joe and his friends passed out on the wooden brown floor, beer cans and bottles all over the cream living room. The brown sofa is now on the other side of the living room upside down, TV on its side, coffee table upside down, clothes all over the place, it looks like we've been robbed but we haven't. It's just Joe and his drunken friends that are still passed out on the floor. They tried to rape me again last night but I locked myself in my room. As I opened the blue front door, one of his friends woke up. Phil I think his name is; he's in his mid-30's, 6'5, greyish hair and facial hair. Unfortunately he saw me and smirked. Quickly I ran out the house and to school with him following. Bursting through my school doors making everyone look at me like I just grown an extra head then and there. Looking out the glass door hoping he wasn't there. He was. Quickly I ran down the hall. "Emily!" I stopped dead in my tracks. Slowly I turned around and saw him standing there with the same smirk. "You shouldn't run out the house like that. There are lots of bad people out there. Anything could happen." He told me, he harshly grabbed my wrist; I pulled my hand out of his grip. Anger was bubbling round my body like fire in a burning house. 

"By bad people you mean... YOU!" I spat at him. Everyone was shocked, so was I! This was the first time I've spoken in 4years! This was the first time anyone had heard me speak! Suddenly I felt a massive sweaty hand come in contact with my cheek. I was still standing, which made everyone grasp! If someone got hit that hard by a man, they would be on the floor. Not me. My small cheek felt like it was on fire! The teachers kicked him out after that and the day when quick.

Silently I walk home on my own. When I got home, I went straight to my room and cried silently. I must have cried for hours. Georgina come in my room and hugged me. "Has Joe been treating you well?" she asked in her cheerful voice. I shook my head. "Why? What's he done?" I stood up and got a bit of paper. I wrote: 

*He beats, hits and kicks me, I get fed once a week, his mates try to rape me. No one likes me in this house or at school! This is not a life a 7 year old wants!* 

I handed it to her the paper; after she read it and said "Oh" she stood up and went down stairs. I heard Joe shout "YOU'RE NOT TAKING HER!" then BANG!!!

A massive bang went off, it reminded me of when my parents were shot in front of me. Quickly I ran down stairs, only to see Georgina on the floor; the brown wooden floor was now covered in blood; Georgina's blood. Her black hair was all over the place and covered in her blood, her tanned skin was now white as a ghost and her blue top now had a hole in it with blood on it. She lay there, lifeless. Joe had a gun in his hand; the same gun that shot my parents! He laughed. More images came. I grasped. It was him! He killed my mum and dad! I shook my head. Tears started to fall out my eyes like bullets. Quickly I ran out the house as fast as I could, more tears fell as I ran. "EMILY!!" I heard Joe shout, I ran faster. I ran as far away as my little legs could take me. Looking back and saw that he wasn't there; I smiled slightly and slowed down. Suddenly I hit something hard; I turned around and saw a boy there. He looked really familiar. He looked around 21, dark brown hair; the same colour as mine, very tall, he was wearing a grey suit and black shinny shoes. 

"Oh sorry there little one, where are you off to in a hurry?" he asked in a deep voice; that voice sounded so familiar but I can't remember where from! I had to answer him or he would think was being rude, he doesn't know what's happened to me or why I don't talk. It's also rude to not answer an adult, my mum and dad always told me to respect your elders. I sighed. 

"Away from my foster dad." I whispered, my voice was rough and dry – it sounded like I’ve had something sharp put down my throat then slowly dragged out.

"Foster dad?" he questioned, he sounded really confused. 

"My parents died when I was 3" I whispered again. 

"What's your name?" he asked with hope in his voice. 

"Emily." I told him a bit unsure, I mean he's a stranger to me but yet I feel like I know him and that I can trust him? 

"Emi Pearce?" he asked with happiness and tears filling his eyes and voice. I nodded really confused. His eyes widened and a huge grin came on to his face. "It's me! Tommy!" I looked at him careful then it hit me; it hit me like a ton of bricks. Only my family called me Emi!

"TOMMY!!!!!!!" 

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Love AuntieMe xx