Bloody Walls

Red Walls

I stared at the wall.

It was was ordernary enough.

Just like the rest.

Soaked and stained in blood just like the rest of the walls.

Everywhere I looked I saw the rusty red walls, but this wall was more ordinary than most.

It is a white wall. At least I think it is, it can be hard to tell sometimes.

I lived in the blood soaked house for as long as my memory would alow.

But the noise in my head that I didn't realize was there, and the splatterd red walls disappeared for a moment, once you came.

And I knew that you could hear it now, see it now, everything that happened in this house I was kept in.

Imprisoned in.

But you understood why I saw the red, and heard my own screams playing back in my head.

Because you were kept like an animal too, in a cage, beaten, and abused.

Not by the same person as me of course.

And that was all the difference.

Because I wasn't alone in this cage. I was kept with around a dosen other kids. (I could count that high with what little education I received.) But in a sence I was alone.

They didn't get wipped daily, because they were younger. More beautiful and pure. I was older, and so I got wipped.

But it stopped when you came.

For some reason you took me and the other children away from there. You took us away from the blood and sweat coverd walls.

I was kept separate from the others.

You made sure of it.

We were all in a big building though. Still in a sence together. But not.

I saw them out my window, between the metal pole. In the yard.

There were flowers outside.

There was a river of blood outside too.

I haven't looked out the window since.