The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Chapter 1

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When I was six years old I watched my father kill my mother. It has been ten years since then and he hasn't stopped beating me because of it. He got mad one night and Brooklyn's mother had tried to calm him down. He snapped and started hitting her, right in front of Brooklyn. She even watched him bury her mother in the backyard. The body had never been recovered, the case had been closed, they never even tried to find her. Now Brooklyn was beaten for it, her dad blamed her for letting him kill her mother. What was she supposed to do? She had been six years old, if she got in the middle of it he would have killed her instead.

Brooklyn was afraid to tell the cops about the abuse. Even if her dad went to jail he would get out eventually and she knew that when he did, he would hunt her down and kill her. She didn't want to take that risk.

"Brooklyn?" Her dad called from downstairs. "Ya dad, I'm in my room." She called back. "WELL GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Brooklyn knew her dad had been drinking, he was angrier than usual and she knew it wouldn't end well.

Running down the stairs she was getting worried, wondering what she would have to deal with that day. As soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs entering the living room her dad spun around, hands balled into fists. "What did you do?" He screamed, walking towards her, getting ready to beat on his human punching bag. "I-I didn't do anything." Brooklyn stammered backing away from her father slowly, as if he were some kind of wild animal. She reached the stairs and tripped, falling backwards on her butt and her father took advantage of the situation to start the nightly ritual of hitting Brooklyn.

He punched her as she stumbled backwards up the stairs trying desperately to get to her room and away from this man. Brooklyn was kicked in the head, her vision going black slowly swimming in and out of focus. Finally she reached the top of the stairs and she got up, her father pushed her back down hitting and kicking her, doing anything he could to let out his rage and taking it all out on Brooklyn. A 16 year old girl who couldn't defend herself from her own father.

"DAD STOP!" She screamed through her tears. "You are never getting out of this house." He said to her in a menacing and frightening voice. He kicked her one last time in the ribs, the pain no longer bearable, everything went black, slowly fading away.

When Brooklyn woke up the first thing she felt was the excruciating pain. Her head was pounding and her whole body ached. She stood up slowly, black clouding her vision as she hung on to the wall as if her life depended on it. When her vision cleared she slowly walked to her bedroom, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt and going to the bathroom to shower. She undressed and looked at the mirror, horrified.

There were bruises around her ribs, stomach, lower back and thighs. There was a big bump on the side of her head and she had a black eye. She looked terrible, her blonde hair in a messy braid, bald spots and a bruised scalp from a week ago when her dad had come home after he didn't get the promotion he wanted. Her pretty crystal blue eyes were now framed by a black eye and dark bags caused by stress. The bridge of her nose now had a dark bruise. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. Brooklyn stepped into the shower turning it on, slowly letting the water heat up and sting her body like pins and needles.

Lying in bed that night Brooklyn knew she couldn't stay in that house anymore. She had to get out of that place and away from her father. She didn't know how or when but it had to be soon. Leaving the only home she ever knew wouldn't be easy. Neither would getting the money for it and planning everything out but she had some money put away for college that she would have to use for a hotel. Brooklyn went downstairs to get a glass of water and saw a letter addressed to her, ripped in half in the trash. She picked it out and carefully taped it back together so she could read it. Taking it back to her room that night with a glass of water she lay in bed and read it.

The letter read:

Brooklyn,

I don't how to start this but to say I never knew anything about you. My parents decided to wait until I was 16 to tell me that i had an identical twin sister, but I guess deep down I always knew. I have always felt like some part of me has been missing. Now you are all that has been on mind. Why haven't you tried to talk to me? Or find me? But maybe you never knew either. I still don't know why your parents, our parents, only gave one of us up. I don't know them and maybe I never will, but I still want to get to know you.

Sincerely,

Your twin sister, Jessica

When Brooklyn finished reading it she was confused. Maybe it was delivered to the wrong address or maybe it was just a mistake. That's what she thought before she looked on the back of the letter and saw a picture. Brooklyn swore it was just a picture of her that someone took to freak her out until she noticed the other people in it.

There was a girl, who looked identical to Brooklyn standing in the middle and two other people, probably the parents, standing beside her. The girl in the photo had the same glossy blonde hair, same nose and lips and the same crystal blue eyes, but the girl in the picture looked happy. Brooklyn knew it must be true. She had a twin and she was determined to find her.

She tucked the letter in the envelope and hid it under her pillow so her father wouldn't find it. When Brooklyn was young her mother told her that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel and that one day she would find that light. Jessica was the light at the end of the tunnel for Brooklyn, isomething to look forward to in life.

Brooklyn knew that she was going to find a way to get away from her abusive father and find the twin sister that she never knew she had.