When I was 5 I lived with my mother, brother, father, and when mom was working late nights, my father's girlfriend. When I was 6 my father and his girlfriend lived 6 feet under because of my mom. When I was 8 days younger than I am right now(I'm 16), my mom announced we are moving. I'm not upset about this because people are finding out we aren't as perfect as they thought. I mean, my mom killed 2 people and you can rarely find my brother without cannabis in his hand. So I'm happy to move.
When we get to the new house, I smell something.........weird? No....something...normal. no cannabis smell. 10...9....8....7....6....5....4....3...2....1 wait......there it is. The oh-so-familiar smell.
I need some fresh air already. I skip down the steps of my house and down the street. As I'm walking up the street, I see a creepy black van with tinted windows. I notice a gas station and I decide to walk to it for safety, since it's closer than my house. He rolls down the windows and my anxiety spikes so I start to run. He hops out of the car and dashes for me. We wrestle in the parking lot and I bite kick and scream. Next thing I know I'm in a dark room, all tied up..............
