Until the Day I Die

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but I think that you would have known that anyway. Lol

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WARNING: This is the darkest story that I have ever written, and if you don't like subtle hints at torture than I suggest you don't read it. This is M for a reason. Now on to the story.

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Until the day I died, I wanted to prove to the world that I could live. Not many people believed that I was alive ever since my family left me to live in the afterlife, but I don't feel betrayed by them. I feel betrayed by the brother that kept me here. That made me stay when he let everyone else go. It just didn't make sense to me, that he didn't take my life as well.

Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be the only one left. Perhaps he was just afraid to be alone, but still, that didn't explain why he kept me locked up inside the house all the time. That didn't explain why I was hungry all the time; it didn't explain why I was only allowed to walk around the basement when he wasn't there. Why he did this, I don't know. I don't understand why he would let me live physically, when he knew that I was dying mentally. It's a different kind of death, it doesn't kill you quickly, it kills you slowly. So slow that it could take years, even decades for you to finally die.

I think my brother knew this but didn't bother to do anything about it. It could mean that he wanted me around until he finally got used to being the last. That, or he wanted to punish me for doing something bad to him. But as I racked my brain, I couldn't think of anything that I should be punished for.

Footsteps walking in through the door upstairs were what brought me back from my confusing thoughts. He must have just gotten home, my brother I mean, but I couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, frustrated, or emotionless. I liked it best when he was emotionless, because he left me alone for the rest of the night. Then when the morning would come, he would have even decided to treat me to breakfast. Afterward a shower if I was lucky.

I hated it when he was angry, because when he came back from whatever he did when he left for the day; he would rush downstairs to punish me. I knew that he wasn't angry at me, but he might as well have been, there was no mercy when he was angry, no breakfast in the mornings, no shower afterward, and no break in the punishments that were dished out.

At times I often saw myself making a run for the open door whenever he walked through, then I always thought better of it. He was much quicker than I was, and in my weak form I would have been no match for his strength. Then I often wonder if I would have taken the risk, would he finally set me free to join the rest of my family in the afterlife? Answer, probably not. He would most likely try a new type of punishment on me, because he didn't want to kill me. Where would the fun be in that? If he just killed me after all this time? All I could say was it wouldn't be long until I could fight back, I just hoped that my soul didn't die before I could make it out of there. Please if anyone is to reading this, then give me enough time to get out of here, give me enough time to defeat my brother and get out of this dark basement.

A/N: I don't know if I should continue this, or not but I do wish to have your thoughts. If I did decide to make this a prologue of some kind, then I wouldn't know how to continue it. I know this could be considered to be a great beginning to a great story, but my idea kind of ended there. So I give my permission to use this to start a story of your own, if that is what you all wish to do. I might continue this but like I said before, I don't really have a plot for this, it just came to me while I was supposed to be doing my homework but then just started writing so I wouldn't lose the idea.