Wrong Side of Heaven

Chapter 5: Amberlynn

-Written by Dollangangergirl

*Amberlynn's POV*

I woke up in a dimly lit cage, shackles bound tightly to my wrists and ankles. In the small space I could barely turn in, but if I tried really hard, I could move my hands a little.

The only source of light was the fire burning brightly in the room as condemned souls shoveled coal into the flickering flames, casting creepy shadows on the dark walls of the inside.

On one side of the wall, a large, equally dark throne was placed, so the man could watch with smug satisfaction as the slaves did as they were told.

He scared me with his black, hateful eyes and his raven black hair, all of his features dark, like his soul obviously was.

I knew he was the devil himself. Call it a gut feeling. He looked so young, about thirty at he oldest, as his eyes turned from the workers to me.

My breath caught in my throat as our eyes met. Did I know him, too? Why is everyone so damn familiar?! I thought to myself.

He slowly approached me, examining me in my cell on the floor. Thankfully, the bars weren't too thick, so I could clearly reach my hand through, if it wasn't restricted, or see what was going on outside.

"What am I doing here?" I sobbed worriedly, no longer afraid to show my pain.

I had left my mother behind, and she hadn't done anything to deserve the reaction I gave. But she never answered any of my questions, most of which were left without the answers I wanted, so I reacted badly.

"Well, you died," the devil dead panned, brutally honest and clearly not caring how I felt. "That car did a pretty good job of smashing you, too. Now we're just waiting on your Mommy."

Rage boiled inside me, causing my blood to burn as it coursed through my veins.

"You will not touch my mother, do you hear me?!" I shrieked sitting up as high as I could in the low ceilinged, steel cage I couldn't break if I had tried. "And how do you know about her anyway?"

Ugh. My curiosity got the better of me. One of the many traits I had inherited from my dear mother that I would give anything to see at that point.

"Well," he started hesitantly, obviously amused at my 'stupidity', as a jerk like him would probably put it. "She is my daughter. How would someone not know about their own child?"

I fought the urge to gasp, defiantly refusing to give him the satisfaction he wanted.

"Oh," I merely mused calmly. "So that makes you-"

"I'm your grandpa," he cut me off, responding before I could even finish.

"Well, grandpa, would you be so kind as to let me go?" I inquired, putting on a smile of fake sweetness and innocence.

When the slaves heard me call him 'grandpa', all of the eyes in the room turned to us, widening in surprise.

'Grandpa' was about to answer when he turned to see the slaves staring.

"What are you doing?" he snapped commandingly. "Get back to work!"

I have to admit, even though I hated him for obviously hiring that guy to hit me so he could blackmail or hurt my mother (yeah, I figured that out on my own), I admired his 'leadership skills'. However, they stared on.

"Ok then," he sighed, seemingly regretful. I knew it was all an act; apparently everyone in our family was good at acting. "I didn't want to have to do this..."