Stolen Youth
Okay, another story. Yay! Anyway, onward!
ME NO OWN BEYBLADE
Dear Diary,
My therapist told me to write in you. I don't know why. I really don't. She wants me to trust you and tell you all of my darkest secrets. She really does. Don't ask me why, please don't. All I want to do is to write in you, to tell my story. I know you won't judge me. But still. I need to know that at least someone who isn't in my head cares for me. All I have left are my memories. Jennie, Brei, and, Anjela are gone. Stupid foster homes. Only a fews years until I can try to get them back. My babies. Master trusted me with them, but I failed him as well as them.
Kali
The redhead set her pencil down before leaning back into her seat. She was all alone in the small, white room. They had deemed her slightly insane. All they gave her was that dull pencil and that stupid leather bound book.
There was nothing else. Bed with no covers, chair and table nailed into floor, bars and glass doors keeping her hidden inside. Blank. White. She was sure to go mad. There was nothing and no one to keep her sane. Nothing to talk to. Even Master hadn't been so harsh when trying to break her. He had done it easily. Master was Father. They went hand in hand, so it just simple.
Purple eyes glared at nothing as she stayed still in her wooden chair. The police would come to question her about Master again. But she would never comply. She still had hope in Master, that he would come for her. Sooner or later.
Her ears twitched as the sound of clicking came to her ears. So. They have come. She thought but didn't move. If she was going down, they were coming with her. Every-freaking-one.