BROKEN

Chapter 1

It was about one in the morning when I was woken up by a burning smell. I jumped out of bed and opened my door. Nothing. I walked down the hall and saw flames barricading my parent's room. I shot into my little brother's room, picked him up out of his crib, grabbed the emergency bags, and ran out of the house. I called 911 and told them what happened. My little brother was crying into my shoulder and my shirt was wet from his tears. I was trying to stay calm for him but inside I was freaking out and wanting to cry like he was. I was thinking of people to call when my boyfriend, Cameron showed up. "I'm sick of you!" he screamed at me. I stood there with tears filling my eyes. "C-cameron," I said trying not to cry. "Shut up! Don't cry! You're stupid, pathetic, worthless, useless, and needy! I'm done with it!" he screamed. I stood there in shock not knowing what to do or say. Next thing I know he slapped me and I was on the ground still holding my little brother. I sat up and when I did he kicked me in the side. He started beating me and I was protecting my little brother. "S-stop!" I managed to yell. Then sirens were blaring and he stopped and ran. I sat there holding Bryson and crying with him. I saw flashing lights against the house and then firemen were running in. "Excuse me miss?" someone said from behind. Bryson tightened his grip around me and I stood up. "Y-yes?" I answered. It was a cop. "What happened? Where are your parents?" he spat questions out everywhere. I couldn't take it much longer. "My parents are inside! The fire is in their room! I grabbed the emergency bags and my little brother and ran out!" I screamed out at him. He looked surprised at the way I yelled at him. He wrote down what I told him. After a few moments he looked up. "What's your name miss?" he asked. "Ronnie. Ronnie Michaels," I told him. "What's your brother's name?" He asked. "Bryson." He walked to his car and put the notepad and pen inside. I glanced at the house and saw the fire was out. Soon the paramedics were inside looking for my parents. "Mommy! Daddy!" Bryson yelled in between tears. I held him a little tighter and told him to calm down. Ten minutes later four paramedics came out with two gourneys with bodies on them. They were my parents. They were dead. "Get in the car," the officer said. I slowly walked to the car and got in. I sat Bryson on my lap and held him tight. That night was when everything went wrong.