𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙚/ c.b

29

~29~

           through the musty hallways. My feet dragged across the ground in resistance to her force, but my young 10-year-old body was no match for someone of her size. I was small and petite, while she was tall and creepily buff.

"I-I said I was sorry!" I yelled in response, my voice breaking through tears, "The p-plate fell from my hands b-because the s-s-soap was slippery!" I try my hardest to get my words out, but in the end, they came out in a blubbering mess. It was embarrassing how hoarse my voice was from the screaming. But I had no other response for what was to come.

"That's no excuse for the shattered glass on the ground." The orphanage caretaker, Mrs. Sweet, hissed in reply. Don't be fooled by her name, she was just as rotten as the poisonous apple from Snowwhite. Not to mention she was as ugly as the evil queen from the exact same film. Her harsh tone continued to spill harsh words, "You can never do anything right. Dishes, that's all I asked of you after giving you a meal to fill your belly. You ungrateful child, breaking things that keep you from going hungry. Can you be any more stupid!"

I shook my tear-stained face rapidly, "No! Please! It's hot down there! I'll have a heat stroke!" I beg, knowing the basement was 10x hotter during the summer heat. My body wouldn't be able to handle it.

"You're not that lucky." She scoffed, coming to a halt once we finally made it to the creaky white door propped open by a dirt-filled shoe. Her grip tightened the loosened as she threw me in, my small body tumbling down the small flight of stairs until landing on the hard concrete ground. I scraped my knees pretty badly and held back the urge to cry harder than I already was.

I got to my feet and ran back up the stairs only to have the door slammed in my face and a small clicking noise following its movement. I banged on the door, hoping to get it open, but just like usual, it didn't budge. I was too small, weak, to even cause a dent. Though I did leave quite a few scratches off it's already peeling paint, a job I've been working on ever since arriving at this awful place at the age of 2.

The darkness surrounded me and I only felt the panic build up inside me more as the heat clouded around me and I felt that familiar suffocating feeling I always got when I was put in here. It was all too familiar, I just wish I was used to it by now.

But no, thanks to this punishment I couldn't be in the dark anymore, Just the thought could send me into a spiral of fear and anxiety. This was my greatest fear, one I've been living my entire life.

I've been thrown in here more times than I could count. And it never gets more horrifying.

I slide down the door, my body lazily scooting down the stairs to make it to the hard floor. My sweat-coated body, created by both the heat and my panicked state, very slowly scrawled across the ground until I was sat near the orphanage's heater. Yet it was hotter near it, but, there was a small orange light that came from within that made me feel the smalled bit better. But it wasn't enough to calm me down.