He lunged at me, siezing my hands and dragging me back to the chains. He was pulling me by the hands dragging my back on the rough cement floor. I was yelling and kicking trying to free my hands, but it didn't work. I felt my clothes rip and my back moisten with blood. He finally stopped to hook me on the chains. It took him a while because of my uncooperative behavior. But he did eventually attach me to the rusty chains. The chains gave me little freedom to move. He stood staring down at me smiling like he has finally won. We both looked at each other. I was still squinting and
Flinching from the pain in my back. He wouldn't move or talk, just stared. After a while my eyes started adjusting to the dark and I saw he had scars all over him. The shirt he was wearing was so bloody it looked like his shirt was stained white. His paints were also ripped and bloody. He finally broke the silence. It was so unexpected that I jumped a little when he began to speak. "Its, been so long. Mom knows, doesnt she?" I just sat there for a minute and said "what?" He looked mad after I said that.
"Where. Is. Mom?" He paused for a second coughing and punching his throat to get his voice back. "She knows. That's why you let me off. Isn't it? So you could confess." I was so confused. Wait. Confess. About the time in the garden? What did I do? He hit his head and was bleeding. He collapsed in the garden ruining the flowers so I carried him downstairs. I was scared mom would yell so I hid him for days. We played when she wasn't looking, then he made to much noise by hitting a watering can and mom came to look. I hid him back down in the basement and after I told mom she cried. I felt bad so I told him to stay down here to keep mom happy. He said no so I locked him up. It was easy to control him with the wound on his head. He just passed out. Then I realized why he was mad. I kept him here like this. For years i kept him alive by feeding him scraps and food that if went missing wouldn't be noticed. I had done it when I was young, always at midnight. I became used to it that my body unconsciously did it every night. That's why he's mad. I felt bad, I realized that this is my fault. I deserved being put here. I lowered my head and began tearing up. "I'm sorry" I said. I looked up only to see him laughing at me. "Its a little to late for that" he then kicked me straight in the face, knocking my head back to the wall. I felt blood dripping from my head. Just as soon as he saw the blood he smiled. "Hehe I'll be back" he began to walk upstairs. He turned on a light and left using the door at the top of the stairs. I heard water running and him sifting through the drawers. He came back and swung the door open so hard he broke something and came down with a knife. His hair was back to being brown and dripping with water. He walked up to me and said. "Now you'll know my pain"
I would keep going but SOMEONE just couldn't wait to read this.
