The Shell Of Who I Was

The adrenaline and fear still rushing, the sudden sound before the world faded away. The vomiting sensation that I had felt in the beginning had become a normal feeling. I had gotten used to it. In reality, I hadn't realized how bad it increased over the months I was trapped until I had started running away. The feeling that I had adjusted to came rushing back in an instant. Even when I seemed safe, my paranoia made me believe that I was still trapped on the rollercoaster of death, like I couldn't get off of it... My head was still spinning, and my emotions were everywhere. My life was one big coin toss, and yet, it all ended with one shot to the head. My entire life had been a fear rush, starting from when I was a small child. The beatings I had to endure from the man who was supposed to love me with all his heart. Even my little sister was a fear rush, and it only would continue to get worse. You don't realize what you have until it's completely gone, I learned that lesson the hard way, the day my little sister died. My baby sister and I were packing up my room, the day before I moved out of my home, not a day too soon either, my mother and another man had gotten together, and they had another little sister that I wouldn't be able to deal with. My sister, I remember how she talked about how she was getting annoyed with her teachers at school, and that she was so excited to finally have my room and not have to share with the youngest sister Angel. My sister had the biggest smile on her face. Her blue eyes looked like the ocean, her blonde hair as bright as the sun. The dress she was wearing was the different scales of a mermaid, her dress matched her pretty big eyes, full of wonder and dreams, and then the gunshot. A sudden loud noise that made my ears ring like the sound of an execution bell. I turned around, whipping my arms around and darting my eyes to my sister's face. Her smile had faded, the shine had disappeared from her eyes, and her hair was dyed red. I yelled for someone, but my mouth felt sewed shut. Another shot of the gun knocked me out cold. The pain that I felt made me keel over. I couldn't keep my eyes open, and darkness engulfed any vision that I had left. Any blackness that once tainted my eyes turned bright red. That was the first time that I truly believed I was going to die. I woke up in a cage. I could feel movement all around me, I was moving, I could tell that much. My body was substantial, so heavy in fact, I couldn't even lift my hand above my head. I panted. My strength was completely depleted. I was drowsy and dizzy, and I felt like puking. Then, the movement came to an abrupt halt. I suddenly had a rush of adrenaline. I tried to work on getting the cage open. A bright light engulfs the room, and my eyes sewed themselves shut. I shielded my eyes from the ray of sunlight that had hit me like a dagger. I felt sick. I resisted the urge to throw up. When my eyes adjusted, a shadow loomed over me. He unlocked the cage and picked me up by my arms. I tried to fight him, but he threw me on the ground like a sack of potatoes. I landed on the ground with a thud. I grunted as the man kicked me with his steel boot. Then, he picked me up by the arms again and dragged me into another vehicle. I was thrown into another cage, and they shut it. I put my arms on the bars and tried to pry it open, I stopped, defeated. I could barely move again. I sat in a ball and tried to think of anything. Anything at all, but my thoughts would constantly dart back to my sister's face. Her pretty smile and her golden hair that rivalled the sun. Where I was going became the furthest thing from my mind, all I could think about was the fact that I had nowhere to go, I had no one left. I had carried around those thoughts until the next time the door opened. It was dark out, and the only light I could see was the flash from a phone. The person unlocked the cage and stared down at me, his eyes piercing my body like daggers, just looking into them made my body ache.

"Get out." He ordered. I stepped out, and he pulled me along by the arm to a cabin. He opened the cabin door and threw me inside. He slammed the door, and I hugged my legs into a ball. Without much effort, I drifted off to sleep. I was shaken awake a few hours later by a teenager. He looked about as bad as I felt. He had scars that looked like white scarf marks from chalk. He patted my chest, and the sudden pain I felt made me groan. The kid lifted my shirt up slightly and saw the red gash on my stomach. The kid wheezed and grabbed a medkit from the top corner of the room, he opened it and poured antiseptic on my bullet wound. I screamed and hit the floor of the cabin over and over.