The Girl Who Cried Wolf // 5sos

Prologue

1999

From what I remember, I would always play with my dolls.

I had a gorgeous Barbie doll that I got for my birthday in November. She had icy cold blue hair, and I can't seem to remember what I named her, but I loved this doll because she was different to the rest you saw in the store.

And once the snow had started to fall in Mullingar, Ireland, there weren't much my brothers and I could do outside unless we wanted to freeze our stubby little legs off.

I was two at the time, my brother Niall was six and our eldest brother Nathan was 12. Considering the age difference, my brothers would never hang out with me and they were always together; as far as I could tell, they were inseparable.

Until, one day, sometime after Christmas, I was in my tiny closet-sized bedroom, playing with my blue-haired doll in this Victorian style house. I could hear my brother Niall scream. It was a piercing scream, one that would strike shivers down your spine.

I heard my father and mother run down the hall, past my bedroom and into my brother's shared bedroom. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I did hear my mother let out an exasperated gasp, and she and my father were yelling, though not at each other.

I dropped my Barbie and used all of my muscles to pull myself off the floor to the room beside mine where everyone was. The door was shut, but I was just tall enough for my arm to reach the doorknob and twist it open.

I peaked through to see Niall on the floor, his head in his hands; he let out loud sobs. My father was yelling at Nathan who sat on the top bunk. He had a grumpy look on his face with just a hint of mystery that sparkled in his eyes. Nathan's arms were crossed, and his face didn't seem to flinch as our father spat in his face and pulled him off the top bunk.

When Nathan stood back on the ground again, Niall extended his legs and ran out of the room, he pushed me out of the way and hid outside in our tree house. Our parents couldn't get him out of their until he fell asleep, where dad picked up his shivering, sleeping body and tucked Niall into bed.

And neither of them would explain what would happen. We ate meals in horrid silence (that is, if we could get Niall to even come to the dinner table, most nights he was to scared to even be in the same room as Brandon that he got to eat in his room) and Brandon would glare at all of us as if we were treacherous, his eyes felt like they would shoot bullets through your head. That was the face I remembered him by.

Then, about a week later, it happened again.

I was at home, my babysitter, Miss. Shepard (a lovely lady who was close friends with my parents) just left as Niall and Nathan arrived back home. Niall went straight to his usual hideout -the tree house in the backyard.

Not even two minutes later did I hear that scream again, the scream that keeps reappearing in my nightmares.

I climbed on top of my dresser to look out my bedroom window that faced the backyard. I saw Niall, laying on the ground, clutching his leg and huddled up into a ball. Nathan stood on top of the ladder, in the doorframe of the tree house. His face had this sinister grin, a grin that could haunt you, like the look of a shark before it bites you as if you're its dinner.

When Nathan looked over, we locked eyes and his face dropped, almost sad-like.

He jumped down from the ladder –almost an 8-foot drop- and landed gracefully on two feet. He ran over to me, stepped over Niall who winced, opened my window and whispered, "You were always my favourite."