Story Ideas

4. The Boy Who Unintentionally Escapes Death

   This was inspired by Supernatural. More specifically, when Dean and Sam encountered Prometheus, the Greek god who died everyday. Also... I could make this a romance or whatever...

   My father, who I never new, had dropped me off at an orphanage. I was only 2, so I didn't remember anything. My earliest memory was of the hot stove and the boiling water. I still have scars on my hands.
   The workers at the orphanage don't care about the kids who wind up here because of stupid parents. All the workers ever care about is the money they hog, leaving barely enough for us to live healthy, and the pleasure in disciplining us... even if we did nothing wrong.
   Of course, no ever got picked on as much as me. Though I was thankful no other orphan got hurt as much as me, it still pained me to know that I was the center. It's like the workers have a set schedule on when and where to abuse me next. Yes, I know I am being abused. I'm not some ignorant, hopeful, dude whose too dumb enough to see that they are abusive.
   However, just because I know that, does not mean I can just take the orphans and myself to safety and live happy lives from then on. For one, I'm only 16, and for two, how the heck am I supposed to get everyone away from the abusers in the first place. Especially now that everyone, both the orphans and workers, have their eyes on me.
   It's not like I knew it. I didn't even know, like most orphans, my dad! To paint a clearer picture, let me explain. The workers, like any other day, managed to find something to pin on me. I was helping Tod, a 6 year old boy, with his homework. Suddenly, I hear my name being called from all the way down in the basement.
   I head down there, thinking that I did something wrong. I don't know, maybe I left the toilet seat up. So, I get down there, and see that 3 of the workers, Janet, Sophie, and Beck, are waiting for me. Janet has her hands all over my bed sheets with a lifted eyebrow. I realized that I had forgotten to make my bed in the rush to get to school on time this morning.
   I knew I was gonna get a whooping. Yes skip a few hours of the beating. Runs out, they had broken one of my tips and fractured my spine. I was not only rendered immobile, but I also now had a punctured lung due to the broken rip... it was only a matter of time. The workers realized too late.
   When they found out that I wasn't moving an hour after they left, they came back and saw me laying there. I had died just seconds before they re-opened the basement door. They took my body to the back yard and tried to burry me. THEY TRIED TO FRICKEN BURRY ME!!!
   Luckily, I awoke, like nothing had happened mind you, before they could drop me inside their make-shift grave. They freaked.
   Fortunately, they don't hurt me as much anymore- though, now they don't care if I die because I'll just pop right back up- Unfortunately, they now have me locked up in the basement.
   This all happened last year... I have been in here for a year... I need to get out. I knew that if I stayed, it didn't matter if I would live forever or not, I may never be able to escape the pain...