I crawled over to the window and used all my might to open it. The cool breeze felt nice. Now, how the hell do I get out of here? I looked outside, there were no trees to hop or climb over to. Then I looked over at my room. Well, isn't this my lucky day? I spotted some blankets in a pile, and then I started to make a rope out of it. "Wait! the box!" I said, remembering that I left it in the entry way. I guess I'll get it on the way out of this hell hole. I tied the bunch of blankets to the nearest sturdy furniture.
I started to climb down, then limp to the front of the house. My vision started getting blurry, my breaths becoming shorter and faster. I quickly went into the house grabbing the hot box that burned my fingers. Then I saw her. I started to run, if that was even possible with the condition I was in.
YOU ARE READING
Stitch
Teen FictionIt contains cursing reader discretion is advised. It's about a child's "trials" with his stepmother. Contains gruesome material.
