Junior

Chapter 5: Celldweller

A pale young girl with long, curly blonde hair is sat in the middle of a cold dark cellar. She looks very skinny. Malnourished, actually. Scars all over her body, even in places that no girl wants to be scarred. She looks very weak but surprisingly has quite some strength. That girl, is me. 12 year old Zenith Olivia Morningstar. Daughter of the famous Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil. And after my family's murder 6 years ago I was taken and held captive. As far as I know everybody I once knew is dead. I have nobody on the outside. I also can't get outside. This prison, this Cellar. It has become my home. It's all I've known for the past 6 years. These 4 grey walls, at keast I assume they're grey, it's so dark in here that it's hard to tell. My eyes are so adapted to this darkness that when Clive comes in the light from his house hurts my eyes to the point where it essentially paralyses me, I can't move due to the pain. All i can do is cover my eyes. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Marco and Zack. Clive 2 sons. They always sneak food into the cellar for me but they dont stay long cos they know that they'll get killed by their father if they do. Marco talks to me as much as he can. He usually slips a note or two through the broken floorboard in the corner of the room above. The floor here is really high at that corner so I am able to take the notes and write something back to him with the pen he sends through as well. He's always asking if I'm OK, he's such a sweet boy. He also tries his best to help his youngest sister out but unfortunately for her she's locked down here with me. A little 3 year old. Her father didn't name her and he killed his wife before she could name her. That bastard. 

Yes I've learned a lot of swear because of him. I hate him so much but I can't do anything about it. He's done so much to me. Things I don't ever wanna talk about. I've been violated so many times I can't even count. It's so cold down here and all I have are these torn rags to wear, literally I stitched some old rags together to wear as a dress when my old clothes got too small for me. I've grown a lot since that day and thankfully I used large amount of the rags to make this thing so it's still covering me up. Anytime the little baby does anything bad down here Clives comes down to punish her severely, but i will not let him touch her I take all of her beings personally. My being a developing girl hasn't helped my case recently, because Clive has done some extremely disgusting things. Things that I never ever want to talk about again. It makes me shower to think of. I've given the baby a name. I don't don't many names, but the last name I remember was my preschool teacher, teacher Cynthia. So that's what I called her. I called her Cynthia. I'm sure her mother would've loved the name. She loves playing games with me, her eyes have also well adapted to the darkness too. So she also sees as well in the dark as I do. Admittedly her vision isn't as good as mine but she'll eventually be able to go outside of this room if she wanted to. I vowed to never let let harm come to her for the sake of her mother and her siblings, as much as I try though, Clive still hurts her. But I'll never let him hurt her a lot. I always tell him to stop and to dish it out on me instead. He'll listen to me for things like that. I hate it down here and I was sitting by the piled of rag covered sponges that Cynthia and I use as a bed, holding Cynthia in my arms close to my heart and rocking her when I heard footsteps outside the window above. Since the floor here is so close to the floorboards above I stood up and looked out of the board covered window through the little gap there was my eyes burned like hell when the light shone in, but after about a minute of tanking the pain my vision in my right eye cleared up enough to be able to see out. I saw a pair of feet, they had these weird shoes with this thing that looked like a tick on the side. I'm not sure what that was but they were nice, they looked dirty, but anything was better than being barefoot in this basement. I mustered up as much energy as I could and spoke as loudly as i could at that moment. I still sounded super soft.
"Help"

I heard the footsteps stop after I said that.
"Help me!"

They slowly started getting closer.
"Please! Help me!"