i crawl out of bed, my back and thighs feeling like there are fire ants biting them.
the younger kids look over at me apologetically; this isn't the first time she's beat us and it surely isn't the last.
i walk with my back as straight as possible, and slowly make my way over to the small dresser that we all share.
thankfully, my drawer is on the top. i open it up quietly and pull out a blue-grey shirt and a pair of grey skinny jeans that i found at goodwill.
i take them into the small bathroom and look at myself through the cracked mirror. cringing, i turn to look at my back and legs.
red slashes and bruises litter the once soft and smooth skin.
the door opens quickly, and i flinch slightly from surprise. sam walks in with bandages and the cream we always use on cuts.
"i wish we could get out of here." he whispers as he treats my wounds. i purse my lips and give a light nod.
i feel the cold cloth wrap around each of my legs individually and then around my torso.
one day, i will get these kids out of this hell.
YOU ARE READING
scream
General Fictioni scream for help, but no one can hear me in this place. i want to close my eyes and make this all disappear, but that's only for little fairytales. and life is no child's book.
