Adopted by Dan and Phil

2.

I open my eyes slowly. It seems so much colder here. It was still a bit blurry but I could tell that my room was different. As my vision cleared up, I remembered the events that came and went a few hours ago.

'Knock! Knock!' There was a loud knock on the door and I sat up. The door opened and there stood one of the girls from earlier.

"Thank God you are up! I didn't want to come up here again, checking if you are up. Now hurry up because dinner is ready or its going in the bin!"
"It's that time already?"
"Yeah, now hurry up."
"Alright, alright I'm coming."

The girl pivoted on her heel and walked off. I climbed out of bed and quickly checked my hair and sure enough it was a mess. I grabbed my brush and untangled it. At least I'm semi-decent looking.

I rushed down the stairs and into the dining room. I saw the only open spot and assumed that it was mine.
Boy was I wrong.

"Why are you sitting in my spot?"
"Ummm... I didn't realize I was in your spot." I said awkwardly.
"You Americans think your hot shit, don't you?"
"No..." I started as I climbed off of the side of the chair, my foot caught the side of the chair and I fell backwards.
"Clearly, you don't." she laughed. Then the owner came out and told us that the food was ready.
"Actually I suddenly am not very hungry." I said quickly and rushed up to my room.

I closed the door and hopped on the bed. Soon, I felt tears fall down my face. I don't know when they started but they were running down my face. They started slowly, but then the memories came back. They never truely went away, the memories were always there. I just didn't think about them all the time. But everytime I cried, I would remember that unforgettable feeling that was there I was finely able to process what had happened.

Blood, spilled onto the hardwood floor. It flowed slowly towards me. The shock making me freeze on the spot. It crept closer and a pool of blood surrounded my feet. A knife. It was sticking out of my fathers back.

My mother's blood was dripping down the walls. At the bottom, my mother was there, completely limp with a knife in her chest. There also was a phone, lighting up through the blood covering the screen.

He walked closer. I was backed into a corner. 'Click, BANG!' My ears were ringing and the man in front of me fell to the ground. I felt something slowly running down my face.

I reached my hand up and touched my cheek. Blood.

I sprang from my bed and hurried to the mirror on the wall outside my room. I looked into it and saw a 7 year old girl with blood running down her face. I closed my eyes and shook my head.
"It's only your imagination." I whispered to myself. I looked again and this time I saw a 14 year old girl with clear tears running down her face.

I ran back into my room. I ripped open the drawer I had put my art supplies in. I flipped to a clean page in my sketch book. I took out a light drawing pencil and started drawing my dead parents.

A policeman ran up to me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the house. He sat me down on a spare stretcher and checked me over, and wiping off my face. I
watched my parents and the man be zipped up into three seperate bodybags and taken away.

The policeman asked me some questions,
"Did you get hurt?"
"No..."
"Do you know who that man was?"
"No..."
"Do you know what happened to your parents?"

That's when it clicked all together. They were dead, forever.
"Yes." I felt them fall, tears started falling at a quick pace.

As I drew, the memory finished and I felt slighly better. But a awful feeling still lingered, tugging at my heart. I got up from my bed, leaving the drawing unfinished. It pained me to leave it unfinished but I needed to look in the mirror one last time.

I looked into it and there stood my seven year old selves. There were two of them, one on each side of me. One was mortified and had blood slowly running down her face. The other was sad with tears quickly rolling down her face.

I forced myself to look away and drag my feet to my room. I sat back on my bed and finished the drawing. Once I had finished the drawing, I looked at it and tore it out. I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. I crumpled it up and threw it across the room.

Part of me hated myself for crumpling up something I had just finished, the other part didn't care. I just wanted it out of my sight.

I laid back down on my bed and sighed. My thoughts roamed around and some questions popped into my head.

Why does no one seem to like me here?

Did anyone notice I left?

Why am I alive? I have no one to live for.

Is my exsitance even important?

Why was I created if my life was going to be torn apart anyways?

And some statements like these.

No one cares about me.

I could get killed pretty easily.

Maybe it would be better if I did.

I need to stop thinking, I grab my computer and start scrolling through tumblr. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts. I softly chuckle at some funny posts, it wasn't a true laugh of mine. It felt like a struggle, like I had to force it out of my mouth.

My home page on tumblr was mostly made up of phan, troyler, and septiplier. There was the ocassional pewdiepie posts and there was also band posts which included My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, All Time Low, Twenty One Pilots, Black Veil Brides, Fall Out Boy, etc.

I eventually got tired, but I had no idea what time it was since my laptop was still set in American time.
~~~~~~~~~~
I was rudely shaken awake. I opened my eyes there stood the mean girl from yesterday.
"Come on! Its almost lunchtime and you have been assigned cutting duty."
"Cutting duty?" I asked nervously.
"Yeah, now hurry up and get dressed!" The girl ran out of the room.

I dragged myself out of bed and pulled out a Dan and Phil hair sweater. I also grabbed a fresh pair of black skinny jeans. I brushed my hair and went downstairs.

"Go to the kitchen and I'll tell you what you'll need to do." the owner told me. I walked into the kitchen.
I then saw what I was moat afraid of, knifes.

"Pick up a knife and cut the vegetables that we have lain out for you."
"Can't I do something else like laundry, or washing the floor."
"No because we are working on lunch right now."
"Can't I wash the counters or something?"
"Nope, I'm sorry but the jobs have already been asigned."

The owner walked away, leaving me with this awful job. I walked over,
"I can do this, I can do this." I whispered to myself. I picked up the knife,
"I can't do this!" I yelled and ran to the opposite corner and crouched down.

I looked and saw my dead parents bodies sprawled out on the kitchen floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, "It's not real, it's not real." I told myself.

Then there was a worried question thrown at me, "What's going on?!"
I looked up to see the owner standing there.
"I can't do it, I don't like knifes! I
hate knifes! Get them away from me" I yelled in a spastic manner.
"Alright, calm down. You can do the dishes instead of doing this. I'll do it instead."
"Thank you! You don't know how much this means to me!"

We sit down to eat and I noticed that there were 11 chairs instead of 10, so I had a place to eat. After lunch, I had to wash dishes. When I finished, I went upstairs and had a shower. I then went to my room and went on tumblr and youtube the rest of the day.