The unholy war

Chapter 4

I'm startled awake by Layla's muffled cries. Taking a second to recollect my thoughts, I drag myself out of be, walking towards the eleven-year-old child.

Its been such a long time since I've had a dream like that. I can still remember vividly what happened that day, even if i usually choose the push it aside to the back of my mind. I hated remembering mother; she always brought back consuming waves of emotions that i'd much rather deal without. 

           Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, i sigh, despite myself. Its been five long years without mommy being around. I missed her greatly, especially since I don't actually know what happened to her. I hoped that she was dead; it was least painful thing i could imagine, as I refused to believe that she simply abounded me. I stayed in the confined closet for what must have been days, softly whimpering and crying out for my mommy, starving to death.

           When the hunger became close to unbearable, I disobeyed my mommy's rules, tentatively  stepping out of the closet. I wanted to search for her, or at least find some food. I felt as if my stomach was threatening to digest itself. There had been times when food was scarce, but my mommy had always made sure I was fed, even if it meant that she wasn't.