Another Life
This story is about a girl, whose parents are always fighting with each other, and she can't handle it any more.
They were fighting again. She could hear what they were saying from her room. The words she heard were words no seven-year old should even know, let alone have to listen to them being shouted by her parents every night. I was sick of it. I couldn't bear to watch her hide under her bed covers frightened by her own parents. I wish they would just get a divorce already.
The argument finished the same way their arguments finished every night. They stopped shouting and instead started trying to hurt each other. Plates, bowels, cups and cutlery were thrown across the kitchen. For five minutes all that could be heard were loud bangs and crashes. Then it stopped. It was over.
She climbed out of my bed and into her own, as their loud stamping footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and across the landing and into their separate bedrooms. Both doors were shut roughly with as much force as possible. That was my signal.
I shuffled in the darkness towards the bedroom door, across the landing, down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was worst than usually. Broken glass and shattered porcelain plates lay all over the floor. I got to work, clearing the mess leaving no remains of my parent's argument for Clarissa to find in the morning. I went to find the brush and pan in the utility room.
"Need some help?" a voice comes from behind me. I gasp, drop the brush and turn sharply.
A boy my age is standing at the doorway. It's too dark to see what the boy looks like, all I can see is his shadow.
"Wh wh what do you want?" I whisper. He turns on the light in the utility room. He's tall, a lot taller than me. His hair is jet black, making his pale skin look extremely paler. His lips were blood-red, and his eyes.. I couldn't look away from his eyes. They were a golden color.
"I like to seen my food, before eating it," he says, then he lunges at me. I duck, but it's no use. He smashes me against a wall. It hurt. I couldn't breathe. He's stronger than me, I struggle but it's useless. "I've been watching you," he whispers in my ear. "Your lucky, I was going to kill you. I've other plans for you now." He grabs my head gently press his palms to my ears and forces me to look at him. He's gorgeous
"Who are you? I ask whispering, I'm shaking now, I press my hand to his face. He's freezing. He pulls away quickly. There must be some thing wrong with me. I'm not scared of this stranger in my house.
"I'm sorry," He says. Then suddenly he smashes my head against the wall.
The argument finished the same way their arguments finished every night. They stopped shouting and instead started trying to hurt each other. Plates, bowels, cups and cutlery were thrown across the kitchen. For five minutes all that could be heard were loud bangs and crashes. Then it stopped. It was over.
She climbed out of my bed and into her own, as their loud stamping footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and across the landing and into their separate bedrooms. Both doors were shut roughly with as much force as possible. That was my signal.
I shuffled in the darkness towards the bedroom door, across the landing, down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was worst than usually. Broken glass and shattered porcelain plates lay all over the floor. I got to work, clearing the mess leaving no remains of my parent's argument for Clarissa to find in the morning. I went to find the brush and pan in the utility room.
"Need some help?" a voice comes from behind me. I gasp, drop the brush and turn sharply.
A boy my age is standing at the doorway. It's too dark to see what the boy looks like, all I can see is his shadow.
"Wh wh what do you want?" I whisper. He turns on the light in the utility room. He's tall, a lot taller than me. His hair is jet black, making his pale skin look extremely paler. His lips were blood-red, and his eyes.. I couldn't look away from his eyes. They were a golden color.
"I like to seen my food, before eating it," he says, then he lunges at me. I duck, but it's no use. He smashes me against a wall. It hurt. I couldn't breathe. He's stronger than me, I struggle but it's useless. "I've been watching you," he whispers in my ear. "Your lucky, I was going to kill you. I've other plans for you now." He grabs my head gently press his palms to my ears and forces me to look at him. He's gorgeous
"Who are you? I ask whispering, I'm shaking now, I press my hand to his face. He's freezing. He pulls away quickly. There must be some thing wrong with me. I'm not scared of this stranger in my house.
"I'm sorry," He says. Then suddenly he smashes my head against the wall.
Post Comment | View Comments
