The Dark Corner

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Hey just tossing around an idea :/.... i promisethe plot is good, but if this doesn't catch up then i'm not going to bother finishing writing it -.-

My first attempt at this whole wattpad wibe :))

So you know, comment, vote and stuffles :]]]

Preface

Death. The inevitable. The end. Full stop.

No one could have predicted or prepared me for this moment. I clamped my, now wet, palms firmly over my mouth, while my little body trembled with fear. The sound of my mothers wails were as painful to my ear, as it was to my heart. I felt useless. She'd locked me in her wardrobe, before i could see the face of the attacker. I wanted to question what she was doing, but then I saw the panic, fear and the utmost desperation, in her eyes as she pushed me in. I wanted, desperately to embrace her and remove all worry from her dark, brown eyes. She kissed me lightly on the head, hastily locked the door and went down the stairs.

At first, it was totally silent. My naivity caused me to assume that my mother was having a conversation with this stranger. I decided that after ten seconds if she had not let me out, then I would have thrown a well deserved tantrum till she released me. I had reached to the number four in the coutdown, when the cries started.

I tried desperately to pry the door open with my fingers, but I knew it was useless. I screamed for her over and over. I felt strangled by fear and panic, and could no longer utter a sound. Ferocious tears were now streaming down my face and I pounded my little fists against the door, although I knew it was pointless. My body slumped to the floor in defeat and I had no choice but to listen to her gut wrenching cries and the sound of ripping.

After what seemed like forever, there was silence. I pressed my ear against the cold wooden door, trying in vain to hear if anything was going on. A faint thud could have been heard in the distance, and with each moment it seemed to be closer and nearer. The closer it got, the easier it was to be able to realise that it was not the footsteps of my mother. She had not survived. This person was inhumane.

The shaddow loomed around the entrance to the wardrobe and I realised that it was me he wanted. I pressed my back against the wall of the wardrobe and tightened my eyes shut, awaiting my fate. In my mind, I demanded my heart to slow down and remain calm. I was sure the he could hear it beating, the same way I heard his every step, the same way I heard every time he shifted his weight in front of the door, the same way I heard his satisfied grunts while slaughtering my mother.

I bit into my bottom lip hard, till I tasted a trickle of blood. I was found. After years of running, they'd found us. As the door opened, I didn't even have the energy to look up at the face on this murderer. Confusion, anger, guilt, regret, defeat all flooded my mind. Rough hands raised me to my feet and demanded my name. I couldn't answer, the pain was too fresh. The person shook me roughly and continued to demand that I answered him and told him my name and age. At the time, I was incapable of even thinking how to answer the question .

He grabbed my shoulders and dragged me out of the closet, but before I could see who he was there was a heavy pound to the back of my head, then it all went dark.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 11, 2012 ⏰

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