Raised On The Sound Of a Ghost (Adopted By Vic Fuentes)

Chapter 1: Hell, round 1

The tattered sofa's wall muffled the sounds of adult noises and helpless pleas. The edges of Jackie's black ponytails touched the triangled edges of the tan, nicotine stained walls perfectly. Quietly she sat, knowing any signs of life would get her fare more than just hurt. The sharp sounds continued to pierce the rooms silence. Jakie prayed for the sounds to stop as She sat with her hands cupped around her ears and her eyes closed tightly.

What felt like hours passed until she heard the bedroom door followed by the front door slam, then silence. She knew she wasn't alone in the small trailer, but she knew the worst was over for now. After some time her head popped out from her safe space and she scanned her surroundings.

You could hear a pin drop, Jakie knew this wasn't the normal routine. She pictured her mother's small frame opening her bedroom door and wobbling out. Dressed in not much more than a gown, her short blue hair ruffles on top of her head. Her face was always sad, the face of a lady who wanted nothing more than drugs. She'd form a home on the couch most nights, sometimes she'd make food, if there was any. Sometimes she'd pass out on cheap wine and xanax. Jackie would sit beside her mom if it was a night with food. If it was a wine and xanax night Jackie would fall asleep in her makeshift bed.

Tonight Jakie climbed over the couch and into the empty room. A small lamp in the corner illuminated the room with a dull gold essence. Jakie walked over to the lamp and flicked it off. She didn't know if mommy was okay but she knew she'd be safe behind the couch with her blanket and small stuffed cat, Jessy. She grabbed both from the edge of the couch and slid back into the corner she had made her home.

She drifted off to sleep only to be awoken by banging on the front door. The window nearest the door displayed a barley visible sunrise, she shivered as she waited for the knocking to go away.

"Police, open up" A man shouted from behind the door she knew was unlocked.

She sat quietly with her cover over her head, waiting for the man to enter the house. After a moment she heard a door open and an assortment of footsteps flood the room making their way around the house with flashlights. She continued to sit quietly and listen.

"We got a body in here chief. She looks like she's been dead for a few hours. Appears to have been raped and stabbed in the jugular. We're lucky the neighbors called after hearing suspicious noises. Who knows how long this body could have sat here to rot" The man continued. "She looks like she was a prostitute or something, you can tell by the barcode tattoo on her ankle. This is a bad one, she can't be older than 25."

Jackie thought about it for a moment, repeating the word in her head.

Prostitute...
Prostitute...
Prostitute...?

Jackies mind wondered into the word.

What did it mean?
Did it mean her mom was a bad person?
Is she dead?

"It looks like a kid lives here, the toys suggest they're around 5 or 6" Jackie's mind was cut off by the comments of officers walking into the room she resided in.

Broken dolls, missolanious board game pieces, and other children's toys lay around the once solid white carpet. The walls leaked of nicotine and decades old dust from years of poor upkeep.

The police scanned the room for any signs of breathable life. The dull sun shining in the windows illuminated the room just enough to see the basic shadows of the rotting furniture pieces and anything else big enough to leave a shadow. Their flashlights lit up their sight of vision as they slowly rotated the room.

Jakie slowly uncovered her head and stood up, watching the police officers for a moment before they'd inevitably see her. She examined the two in the livingroom. A short black lady, late 20s at most. And a tall, tan man, he was probably in his early 30s. They turned to her soon after her head rose. They're faces formed in schock as they both raced over to the little girl.