Death Next Door

Chapter 1

I was only 8 years old when I ran away from home. I know what you're thinking: "Oh poor little Melody, all by herself, tragic story." I used to hear old ladies mutter; when I was sneaking around town, dodging police cars and flashing lights, and avoiding television crews.

Of course I missed my Mum and Dad, it's just my big sister I missed the most, I wish I took her with me on my 'big adventure'. I missed her fresh perfume, her hair as bright as the sun and her everlasting kindness to me. But now, I miss her in a different way.

I don't miss my brother though; he was selfish, cruel and rude to me like a beast waiting in the crackling, burning fire, to go to hell. I know that's a horrible thing to say but he has done some terrible things. He used to lock me away in the dust attracted, ancient attic with huge spiders and shimmering cobwebs. He thought it was my fault that Mum and Dad started arguing. I disagree.

I kinda miss that attic, not when I was locked in it of course, but all those times, I could just reflect on my day, without any distractions or anyone stopping me. I miss when my sister and I played ghosts up there, even though she was 15 then! I confess, sometimes I do regret leaving, although I thought it was for the best, with Mum and Dad fighting and my evil brother topped with a bit of bullying at school. It makes sense really. I guess. But anyway, it's done now.