The room is silent. The cold makes your breath visible. It's freezing. Miley sits in a chair to await her "punishment". She squirms in the wooden chair, which is so uncomfortable she wishes she would have listened. She hears her beloved cousin cry in the next room, but she can't get up to comfort her. Luanne still wails. The chains attached to her wrists and ankles weigh her down, and rattle with her movement. She beats herself internally for taking the bread to feed her starving cousin. She should have taken Luanne and walked, more than walk, ran out of that stinky hell hole of a house. There's movement outside. She knows that they heard her, but doesn't care. She knows that the beating will be worse than that, but again, she doesn't care. She's endured the pain much too long. She's immune to her drug addict parents punching her, her drunken older brother calling her a "fucking whore" and the reason their parents died. Saying it was all because of her. Luanne only suffers because they look exactly alike. The doorknob shakes. Luanne screams a long, loud, spine-chilling scream, and then is suddenly silent. Miley's trembling with fear. She whimpers as the thought of death is slowly creeping, slithering into her mind as she already knew what was going to happen to her, again the doorknob jiggles. In walks in Jackson, her brother, with a kitchen knife in hand, blood dripping from the tip. The stench of the crimson liquid hits her nostrils and fills her with overwhelming fear. She starts to cry, sobs wrecking her body like never before, and all Jackson does is smile as he nears her. He raises the knife to her throat and says in the most loving voice, "Happy Birthday, Miley. Here's to your fourteenth birthday."
Well let's see here…. This is the first story I've ever posted and sadly I didn't even write it. The proud author of this story is E.R.S. Oh and I don't own any of the characters. Review please!