C H A P T E R F O U R: T W O
I slowly crawl on my knee towards a big box that I found a few days or weeks ago, which took forever to open. It’s really weird how I don’t remember when I found it, but I could remember every torture, abuse and beaten I have received. I slowly open the box and pull out a stem with a dried rose on it. I learn the name by reading the books that were in this box and photos. I was a little happy that I found this; everything that was in this box was what made me feel happy to be alive. I also found a book that had many letters, no pictures and numbers; it was a book that I found myself reading very often.
I heard the floor creak, that state that someone was coming and the person was walking very fast like he was angry. I quickly close the box and crawl over back to my corner where I started to Trimble and cry. I watch as the door push open as the light from the ceiling came in and blind me. Then I watch as he slams the door shut and walk over to me, lifting me off the floor and hit me in the face.
Then he grab me by the head, pulling me into the middle of the room, Then he got on his knee and dragged my legs open as I tried to fight him, which I knew was useless. He grab me by the cheek bones and told me to shut my f**** mouth. I manage to kiss him in the balls and Pull myself from under him but he grabs my foot letting stumble back on the floor. I started to scream loudly as I tried to get from his grip, but of course he was stronger than me.
I heard Banging on the door but he was still grabbing at me, Then within a minute he let go off me and tried to got up and before I was little bit off the floor I felt something hit me in the back causing me to collapse on the ground, gritting my fingers in the wooden floor, I could taste blood in my mouth, as I tried to swallow my spit, Then I felt the same thing in my head and the next thing I know I was gone…….
I squinted my eyes many times before I could I actually open my eyes full. Then I felt something wet on me. I tried to move my hands but I couldn’t, I glance down back at the floor filled with debris and stones. I closed my eyes and the only thing I could hear was talking and the sound of rain. I open my eyes and push myself to turn over gritting my teeth together, trying numb the pain, but it was no use, but at least I Finally got over on my back.
Where I could see the rain water coming, SO I lay there and let the water was all the blood and debris off my pale body. My eyes felt full and were burning me a bit. So I slowly push myself against the floor trying to let my face get some of the water and the moment I felt the cold sizzling water in my mouth it felt like heaven or an angel has touch me. After I manage to get as much water in my mouth to renew my body. I let it run down my face using my not so hurt hand to wipe the blood and debris away. Then I lay there and close my eyes.
That’s when I could hear them talking below, it was more like a fight. Why do I care so much about them when don’t about me. The stood outside that wooden door, hear e scream of pain, Scream to be free and scream for him to stop. But they stood there caring about themselves.
Why do people only care about themselves why do they only care about what make them happy? I hoping one day that one day I’ll get out of this place and be something that they could never be. I’ll write about my life in this place and the chaos that go on below.
Why they were so scared and why they couldn’t open their eyes to others who stretch their hands out to help. I have heard many good minds walk inside this place and watch them slowly walk back out without a comment. How shameful. Someone may write another story what they think happen, but what I know is the truth.
“She’s Dead” I heard someone says, I could hardly hear the voice, because I was slowly drifting off to sleep but I manage to pick up a few other words
“Shut up! David, you’re the one who let him murdered her, she doesn’t deserve it” I heard the female voice shout at him.
“I can’t hear her” she said
“That’s because maybe cause she’s till sleeping” the other voice reply
“I pray that’s she’s ok and whenever I get out, your dead!” she said in angry and ran away.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl In The Attic | Discontinued |
Teen Fiction(Discontinued To Work On Book) Biannca have locked in the attic of her family house from the age of seven. Locked away from her family, unknown friends and the world. What could a girl like Biannca do when she knows not why she is locked away and be...
