Not An Actual Story

wish

It's not a normal morning. It's not bad, but it's not necessarily good either. You see, Makayla just woke up, three minutes before her alarm went off. It's April 7th, and that means it's the day Makayla's daughter, Aria, turns eleven. Now he thing is, every year on your birthday you get one wish, almost any wish(you can't cause another person's death, and the wish has to be able to occur on your birthday, completely on that day), and this is the first year that Makayla doesn't know what her daughter's wish is going to be.

[Last Night]
POV change:
    I cower in the corner of my closet and pull the blanket tighter around me. I just want to block out the noise. My father got home, drunk, a few moments ago, and he's already throwing things and screaming. I can hear my mother scream in agony as another plate shatters across her back. They don't think I can hear them, they never do. Mom doesn't know that I've seen her scars, or that I know where they're from. She always acts like she is okay in the morning; I think she thinks it'll make me think that it's okay, or maybe she is trying to convince herself. I don't know. Another scream reaches my ears and I pull the blanket tighter over my head. I feel something wet on my knees, which are curled up against my chest, and I realize that I'm crying. I just want this to end. I don't what to curl up in the corner of my closet, crying, helpless, while my mother gets more scars and my father screams at her. I don't want to spend every night in fear that my father might decide that he's done with my mother, decide to remember my existence for once. I don't want to be so terrified of what Mom goes through every night. I want Mom to leave him. I want him to be gone. I never want to hear MOm scream like that. I want to never have to hear that voice again, screaming things that I try to remember aren't true. I'm not useless. I'm not worthless. Or maybe I am.
'NO don't think that way. Don't let him win.'
I never want to see him again. I never want to be here in the closet again. I just want to leave this house. Never again. I wish it would just burn down. I want to see it destroyed, nothing left, so that no one will ever have to see the inside of this closet again.

POV change:
    As I crawl back into bed, dragging myself under the sheets regardless of the blood that I know will stain them tomorrow morning. At least Aria is safe, at least she didn't have to suffer through that. He is back in the living room, drinking. I know he won't make it back into bed; he hasn't for months. I still keep to one side on the bed, leaving half empty for him, if he decided to come back; I know he won't. I stare at the ceiling, wide awake, adrenaline still pumping through me. Once it's worn off I'll probably pass out. I glance at the clock. 12:57. I'll probably be exhausted tomorrow. It's Aria's Birthday, after all. I wipe at my face, trying to get rid of the tears and blood streaking my face. I know it's useless. Hopefully, I'll be up before Aria, that way I can clean up everything before she comes in to wake me up. Before she sees the kitchen, covered in shattered glass and peppered with blood. Before she sees her horrible father passed out on the couch, surrounded in empty beer bottles, or worse, awake and angry, hungover, without me there to take it out on. I should probably set an alarm. I try to roll over, only to be stopped by the pain of the dried blood pulling my skin, still attached to the sheets. I collapse back down, after barely making it an inch. I'll just have to hope I can tough it out tomorrow morning. I think that's when I pass out.

    [back to the morning]
    POV Change:
    I wake up to the smell of smoke. I run to the living room, and see the kitchen on fire. Dad is on the couch, still passed out. He can get himself up. I run back to Mom's room, and I see her on the floor. It must've been worse than usual last night, she's on the floor. This isn't the first time she's passed out in the morning, but it's the first time she hasn't gotten up when I say her name. I call out to her again, but she stays on the floor. The smell of smoke gets stronger, and I go over to her. She's still not responding. I lift her up as best I can and pull he rover to the bed. I open the window, pushing it all the way open. MOm taught me how to multiple times in case she couldn't help me. I drape her over the sill, I don't want to hurt her. I climb out over her, and then a man in a bright yellow suit helps me get her out. He says that he is a fireman and asks if there is anyone else inside. I turn back and see the house in flames.
"No."

He nods and crouches down, he probably thinks it'll make me more comfortable if he's at my height. It doesn't. "I don't think there'll be anything left, we can't get the fire out and just have to let it burn down unless it starts to spread. Then we'll put out where it spreads. Are you okay? I know It'll probably be hard to say goodbye to your house, never see it again."
"I'm fine, I didn't like it there anyway. I don't like anything that's inside. You can just let it burn."
He looks at me in confusion, then takes me over to a man who is sitting in a Truck, and I see Mom on a bed thing inside. I think that means she'll get a ride to the hospital. The man feels my chest and neck and asks me questions. I answer them and once he is satisfied that I'm not injured, he leads me into the truck. He sits with me next to the bed Mom is on. I see that she has on bandages and other stuff to help her heal. That makes me a little happy, cause it means that she'll get better soon. The back doors of the truck close, and we start to drive.