A/N: this is a story inspired by things I am going through right now. I often find myself in similar situations as this, and, unlike this little girl, I can't scream out my pain.
Dark air pushed in on her, and the walls of her hiding place caved in on her, making it hard to breathe. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted all the screaming to stop. It made her scared and she trembled, hearing glass shatter somewhere nearby. A slap and cry of pain followed, and a single tear dripped off of her chin onto her hand that wrapped around her knees, pulling them close. Her face stung from the slap that had driven her into hiding. Her breathing was fast and light, making her head spin. Her leg was covered in sticky blood that smelled like rust and salt water. The screaming started again, and the yells and cries outside mixed with sobs of her own. Her stomach was clenched in a tight knot, and she felt horribly sick. She pressed a hand to her temples, clumps of tangles sticking to her wet hands. Her lips trembled and she bit her bottom lip, trying to stop from whimpering. The screaming quieted, and she closed her eyes, hoping, but she jumped when a bang shook the walls around her. Two more shots quickly followed, and she sunk onto her side, clutching her stomach and letting out a piercing scream. There was no one left. No one would hear.
But she was wrong.
