The Seven Deadly Simpson Brothers [PUBLISHED]

7

© Jojo B 2016

All rights including those in copyright in the content of this story are owned by Jojo B. It's Illegal to steal and/or copy.

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*N.E.V* The Seven Deadly Simpson Brothers

7

(Picture is Gomez)

Work at The Dartfish was tiring.

I was normally on my feet for five hours, with a fifteen minute break somewhere in the middle, faced with rowdy football fans and messy drunkards. My colleagues were a mixture of ages and gender. I liked and got on well with most of them, but it wasn't as if we would meet up outside of hours for a coffee or something. There was one girl Tiffany who I detested, and the feeling - I'm sure - was very mutual. She was a rude, bitchy thing who loved nothing better than to flirt with all the men who came in. I didn't usually stay late enough, but on Saturdays when my shift did go on until closing time in the early hours of the morning, I would see her even go home with guys she'd flirted with that evening.

    It was pitch black as I walked home that night. I was pretty hungry, not having eaten anything since lunchtime. When I got to the flat, I was too exhausted to wait around for anything to cook so ate a bowl of cereal and went to wash off the sweaty, grimy feeling from working my shift.

    I got into bed, shivering from the cold. The heating was very poor and my small heater that was plugged in would take time to warm up the bedroom. I tucked my legs up and wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to keep in as much heat as I could. I slipped into sleep soon enough and was plunged back into my shadowy past.

    I was a kid, not older than seven years old. The first thing I sensed was the all too familiar smell. It was both dirty and heavy with alcohol. There was a hint of something he used as aftershave, a horrible scent that I couldn't describe. He had me cornered in my bedroom; there was no one else there to help me. We were completely alone. His rough, callused hands gripped the tops of my small shaking shoulders and I started to weep, knowing what was coming.

    "Please don't," I pleaded with him.

    He ignored me, even let out a low chuckle. Begging was pointless, it made no difference. He shoved a hand down the front of my top and felt around, making me bite my bottom lip as the tears started to stream faster.

    "Cry all you want," he muttered as he used a hand to unbuckle his belt. "There's no one to hear you."

    I woke up with a gasp as a bang sounded a few blocks down from the block of flats I lived in. It was followed by another and another and another. Each one rang out loudly, echoing down the quiet streets and my heart was banging just as loud in my chest.    

    I lay frozen in my bed for ages, even though the gunshots had long stopped and my room was no longer cold. It was early morning and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep again. Sleep would mean rejoining the old Coral and reliving the abuse.

    Getting out of my bed, I turned on my bedroom light. I made myself a cup of tea, then turned on all the lights in the small flat to make sure no one was lurking in the shadows. Getting out my books from my school bag, I sat down at my bedroom desk with my hot mug, and started with my homework. I hadn't told Walter that I often did all my work in the middle of the night, at times like this.

    It was around 7:30am when I got a text from Hayley. Pick up in thirty minutes?

I let out a weak smile; I suppose this was going to become a new thing between us now. I replied back with a yes and got up to shower again, hoping it would make me feel more awake than I currently did. I came out, taking a look in the mirror, and saw the bags and dark shadows under my brown eyes. Great. My shoulder length blonde hair could have looked better too, hopefully a blow dry would help.