We're the Broken Ones

We're the Broken Ones

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Feb 12, 2017
The first few notes of Nutshell by Alice in Chains drifts softly through the gritty stereo system of my sister's old Jeep Jeepster. The two-toned, characteristically box-shaped car was my sister Decembers pride and joy. She'd had it for a year and a half and ordinarily gave it a vigorous scrub down at least once a week. The car was probably the dirtiest it had been since she first "rescued" it off of Craigslist. There are crumpled brown bags of greasy fast-food nestled at out feet, and the usually immaculate windshield was plastered with the entrails of unfortunate insects.
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The "Please..." I hear her whimper and I go into full panic mode. "Calm down, okay? Deep breaths. Don't hang up. I'll be with you soon. Where are you?" I rush as I grab the car key sitting on the glass table. I run into the garage with my dad behind me. "What do you need?" Dad asks "A room. A big one." He runs back inside as I hear her voice again. "Basement...blood...Elle..." I hear sounds of movement in the background and connect the dots. Elle's bleeding, or something... "Deep breaths baby, deep breaths. It's okay, you're okay" I murmur reassuring words to her, thankful that there's no traffic. Several thoughts run through my mind as I drove to her house. The last time we spoke, she could barely stand me, but now she's calling me. I feel kinda used, but now's not the time to think about that. I reach her house in a matter of minutes and shove the door open. The house is quiet, save for my heavy breathing and footsteps. I reach the basement and take in the sight in front of me. Blair cradles her brutally beaten-up sister in her lap as she rocks herself back and forth blinking very frequently. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Currently being edited Look out for cringe worthy typos and plot loopholes

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