Someone left the door open...
The small, scarfed girl stood in front of the front door, unsure what to do. Her father wasn't stepping out of their car to go inside, but she knew better of herself to move through the opened door, no matter the case. "Daddy...?" She whispered, her words carried by the wind to nowhere. With a whine she stepped back. The thought of outside and the stories her mother said. It scared her. Horrified her, sickened her, she hated it. But her father... He needed help.
… Who let me outside?...
With major hesitation, she took a step forwards. Though, after her body passed through the doorway entirely, the door slammed behind her and her vision burnt away into something less kind, less happy, less... anything. She whipped around with blurring speed and struggled with the door's handle, trying to get the door open. "Let me in! Let me in! Please! Someone! Anyone! Please!" She cried before going silent, the door creaking and groaning, opening enough for her to slip in. Inside... It was empty. The windows were painted on with something that looked too familiar to blood. The walls and certain doors were broken, one door even dangling from it's hinges. In the hall, the staircase on the left was charred and parts of the steps were hanging, like wood in a fire. "M-Mommy...? M-MOMMY!" Her voice was high-pitched, bouncing off and around the walls of the empty, desolate house. With wide, fear-filled, wild, gold-and-green eyes she looked around, screaming for her parents. "Mommy! Daddy! Where are you?! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Calocian, the Bread Kitten fandom, age eight, was left horrified and alone.
… I'm bent, I'm not broken...
"Loser!" The ginger-haired girl flinched at the insult, refraining only just from snarling and snapping at the laughing ones there. "Kitty-kitty!" Someone else mocked, earning more laughter all around. Mumbling, she continued on to her house. At least, that was her original intention. A gripping pain in both of her sides stopped her, a struggled-against gasp leaving her lips suddenly. "Where do you think ya going?" A sickeningly familiar voice growled into her ear. She didn't flinch or even let out a shudder-y breath. "Going the hell home, Chase-" Her words were ended with a yelp as the male bit her left ear. "-sir!" She growled, ripping her ear away, wincing a little as blood dripped down her neck. With a yelp, she felt her right arm twisted backwards, dropping all of her books and such as Chase dragged her backwards. She squeezed her eyes shut as the back of her head met the concrete ground of the sidewalk, crimson pooling beneath her head.
… Come live in my life...
With a satisfied smirk at the blood, Chase pulled a .44 pistol from his pocket and aimed at her single handed. "Make music for me." He purred, pulling the trigger. A single, small bullet lodged its way into the ginger girl's shoulder, earning a pained wail from her as she felt blood drip and squirt from the wound. "Dammit...!" She hissed, pressing her hand to the bleeding area. Laughter and imitations of her reaction filled her ears. Mariquis, the Warrior Cats fandom, age eleven, was shot and crying.
… All the words left unspoken...
Neither girl would talk about their past. Calli, as she was called, would always smile, always giggle, always be a little girl. If anything reminded her of her family, she would hide the pain. No one would ever see the tears, or hear the pained wailing. Marqi, the other, would continue hunting, continue helping, continue being mature. She never winced or flinched about the wounds anymore. Not in the eyes of anyone she knew, at least. They never had shown weakness to anyone, friend or foe. Only each other.
… All the pages I write...
"Calli-Calocium!" The more mature feline fandom joked, smiling, calling the younger one. Now Calocian was sixteen and Mariquis was eighteen, almost nineteen. "Want to help me?" She asked, looking back, sitting at a computer. "I need to write a small story..." Her words trailed off as she leaned back, looking at the younger girl as she walked in, smiling a little. "Sure, sis!" She said with a slight giggle, wincing internally at the memories. The pair sat together, explaining and conversing about the current writing and new parts on the electronic device. Calocian, the Bread Kittens fandom, age sixteen, and Mariquis, the Warrior Cats fandom, age eighteen, were unrelated sisters.
… On my knees, and I'm hoping...
… That someone holds me tonight,
Hold me tonight.