The house of pain

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(The pic at the top is the house).
Most of my early childhood was spent in that house. The house of pain, as I now call it. No day was spent there without managing to do the slightest thing wrong and getting punished for it.
There was a damp living room, never fully lit, Mr.Sadie hated the light. The only thing allowed on was the lamp next to his chair, which could only be turned on by him and Sarah. Sarah was Mr.Sadie's wife, but didn't answer to us unless we stated her as Ma'am. In there was a big fireplace, the only source of warmth from downstairs. Pictures of their wedding day lined the cabinet and some on the windowsill, but the curtains were to always be drawn. A rough, carpet was placed lazily on the floor which me and Rider, my foster brother, had taken beatings on many times.

The Sadie's weren't very tidy people, but forced us to clean every day. If we didn't do it correctly, Mr.Sadie would burn us with the end of his cigarette. (The smell of his smoke always filled the house). Upstairs there were two rooms: one for our foster parents and a spare one. Apparently, me and Rider didn't deserve a room. We were kept up in the attic and we had to share a small double bed that looked as if it would break under us at any moment. There was a small lamp next to the bed that was placed on top of an empty box. Rough sheets were thrown on top of the mattress that smelt like they hadn't ever been washed and there were low banisters coming off the walls, blocking most of our space to move. I just hated it there. I hated them and I hated myself. I guess the only part that kept me going was Rider. He was mine.

(I just wanted for you to get to know the setting a bit, next chapter will be better :)

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