Just a heads up, if anyone is confused, the part in italics was a flashback, it wasn't happening right then lol but yeah, I see a few readers, thanks yall and I need yall to comment for me. But ANYWAYS...
*Olivia in the media*
*COMMENT GUYS!!! It really is motivation*
Kimberly
After I swept the mess that I allegedly "made myself", I put the broom away in the hall closet near Liv's bedroom. I slowly open the door, being sure not to scare her, then peeked inside the room. Empty.
But wait, no its not.
Our house is a bit old; it reminds me of the "Roaring 20s". Well, maybe older to be honest. I mean, there's a dumbwaiter and everything. It goes from the kitchen to my room; the door to the old dumbwaiter is hidden behind my headboard and I don't think my mom or James have a clue.
In my sisters room there's a door that looks like it leads to an attic. Except it doesn't because it sits on the floor. The door leads to what I think was a basement or hideout during prohibition and is far from looking anything like finished basement, just space directly under the house. There are lots of drafts that come through the area down there so I think the walls are thin or nonexistent. We can't really tell, it's pretty dark.
In the corner of my sister's room is where it lies in the floor, hidden under a rug in her little play area. Oh, my mom and James are clueless about the "prohibition basement" also. They live with their heads up each others asses. Anyways, I know she's down there, because she tends to hide in there when she is scared. Liv probably heard my mom get out of hand and went to her safe place. Crazy how the darkest place in this hell hole is a safe space for a little kid.
I lift the rug corner, revealing the door and grab the rusty latch then pull it. The small, old door squeaks open and I ease my way down the rickety stair ladder. When I touch the solid ground, I can hear the leaky, rusted old pipes dripping. That drip-drop, splat noise echoes as I feel along the wall through the dark. My hands touch the wall's corner and I turn left. I outstretch my arms to the familiar wall on the other side and move them down. The doorknob to a short, triangular door which should've been on the wall of a staircase, meets my fingertips. Before I can twist it, I hear it creak open and Liv runs out to hug me. She squeezes me tight and I know she is afraid.
"Come on, Kid," I say, grabbing her little hand. She squeezes mine as I guide her back to the entrance. I pick her up to let her climb up and out on the stair ladder first. When we come out, Liv closes the door and pulls the rug back over our little secret.
We both sit on her bed and I scoot back to put my feet up and rest my back against the pillow that's neatly propped up against the bed frame. Olivia climbs up next to me then lays her head in my lap.
"Is she gone?" she whispers, turning her head toward me, waiting for my response. I had started to twist her curly hair into two pigtails, but paused when she turned to look at me. My heart ached as I stared into my sisters small, innocent eyes.
"Yeah, she left a minute ago."
"...Is he here?" My sister dropped her voice lower than a whisper and her eyes were full of terror.
"No, not yet," I sighed. Having to live in fear everyday is starting to get old but I feel helpless knowing there is nothing I can really do. Its like everything I tried to do, failed and knocked me 10 steps back while I was merely attempting to take one step forward. I think I'm at the age where I'm supposed to be worried about the small things. Things like my favorite store in the mall running out of my favorite lip gloss or some shit I really don't even know. And Liv is definitely at an age that she should have no worries at all; life hasn't even started for her. Yet, here we are, worrying constantly about our survival. I'm glad I only have two more years in this hell hole. My plan is to move out of here with Liv. Not really sure where yet to be completely honest but somewhere nice. Anywhere besides here would do just fine. And I mean anywhere.
Liv rolled onto her back once she felt me finish with her pigtails. I looked down at her big bright eyes and watched them fill with alarm.
"Your face! It-it's bleeding! You have -there's a hole!" She quickly sits up, biting her nails.
"Calm down. It'll be alright," I assure her, knowing that it could've been a lot worse. Although, I'm not exactly sure how my face even looks right about now.
Grabbing my hand, Olivia leads me down the hall to the bathroom. She pushes me in front of the mirror, allowing me to examine my fresh wound. Huh, guess she really wasn't exaggerating. My mother's ring, cut a small chunk out of my left cheek when she backhanded me. The cut is smaller than a pencil eraser and covered in dry blood.
As I was examining my wound, a cold wet cloth was slipped into my hand. I wiped away all the dried blood and put a small face bandage on. I look like Nelly.
"It's getting hot in here," I sing, grabbing Liv's hands and spinning her, making her laugh.
"So hot!" she sings the adlibs, making both of us laugh and dance. I lift her up and spin her into the hallway and back into the bathroom before setting her back down. She takes a seat on the side of the tub as I look in the mirror once more. Yep, this is definitely gonna leave scar. Exhaling and letting my head hang, I feel Liv rub my back.
"Things will get better," she encourages. "Remember, flowers bloom when rain falls," she sings, making me smile. That girl is wise beyond her years. She'll always be my baby sister though.
I look in the mirror saying, "This isn't just rain, Liv. It's a flood, a damn hurricane really."
"After a hurricane, there's a rainbow," she counters, singing some more and I can't help but to burst into laughter. I can't believe this girl really just quoted a Gospel song then Katy Perry. She's hilarious but my biggest motivation for sure. We make our way out of the bathroom and down the stairs.
I make our favorite food: grilled cheese steak with raspberry lemonade because there is nothing that cheers us up more. Except each other and Hershey bars. But mostly each other.
As I lay in my floor, I wonder how to get out. Out of the floor, my room and this horror house. It's 11:00 and Liv is sleeping so now is my chance to plot.
Click.
What was that? I peek out of my window and spot the white Ford F-150. Shit. James.
My blood runs cold through my veins and my body shivers ,though I can feel the slight perspiration on my forehead. I hear keys turning in the front door lock, then hard and heavy footsteps.
As quickly as I can, I spring into my bed and under my comforter. James comes upstairs and straight into the bedroom, slamming the door. Not moving and scarcely breathing, I listen for more action. The room door squeaks open as James storms right back out and stomps on the stairs. Or maybe it's because he's so large. Who knows?
My heart sinks into my knees and I can't stop shaking. I feel dizzy and my chest has got to be on fire. It's so damn hot. I'm dying. Am I dying?
Footsteps stop in front of my door, interrupting my thoughts. I see a shadow, right under it. This is it, I think. Bring it James. My door slowly creeps open and I remain motionless in my bed.
I wonder if I'll look the same in my casket after this man beats the shit out of me and kills me.
I remember how to breathe and exhale once I see Liv step into my room. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and sit up with my finger on my lips. She nods her head, and lightly closes the door before entering my room.
YOU ARE READING
Fresh Wounds
Mystery / Thriller"...I took deep breaths, as silent as I could. My cheek burned from the cut drew by her wedding ring and the blood dripped down onto the floor around my shoe...Too afraid to move, I stood still; my bloody wound could wait..." Kimberly, at the young...
