It's for anon. reviewer Wendy. It is from what I collected info around here about what happened. I pray for you every day; I hope you will be better soon. Recover soon, Wendy, you are an amazing person, you shouldn't have to suffer this.

I'm sorry for if any of this is wrong, I just kind of imagined it. Uses lots of similes and metaphors, so it may be confusing.

She oppressed herself trying to believe that they had an ounce of soul in their bodies. She hid her bruises and scars, though it was getting harder to do so. No one noticed the lift in her eyes, however fleeting and weak of was before has now gone out completely.

Wendy lay in her bed, pulling the covers as close to he chest as possible, her nails digging deep into her paws, her eyesight flickering on and off. Remembering the scene visually was extemely difficult; but she could recall each sensation like it was still happening.

She recalled the powerful grip on her thick brown hair, so strong it lifted her small body off the ground. Then the sensation of the fire. It was burning, the white flames digging deeper onto her chest, her heart, so hard she couldn't breathe. She was suffocating, then slammed harder to the dirt. The ground never seemed to hard, yet so welcoming. Their shadows loomed above her, and spat in her face as she raised her violently shaking hand, pleading to let her go. They laughed as Wendy tried to disengage, and they would have none of that. They picked her up by the scruff of her dark sweater and each took turns striking her across the face. She fell to the ground, tears, mucus and blood plastered across her delicate face. Once again they laughed, and took off in a flash. They left Wendy broken, and bleeding once again.

It was unfair. So unfair.

Her sisters were fast asleep when she had limped home. In a way, it was a relief. How would she look in their eyes and tell them what had happened? The whole world was shaking, yet she was the only one who was loosing her balance.

Miss Miller had stopped her. Wendy recalled hearing a horrid choking noise, like a cat hacking up a hairball. It took a while to realize it was coming from her caretaker. Caressing her small arms and shaky legs, Miss Miller's gentle fingers feeling for broken bones. Then Wendy was sitting on the couch, still, as not to make any sudden movements. What if the pain came back? Miss Miller had called Dave. There were many stressed shouts, moments of endless silence and sighs. Wendy said as loud as she could from where she was siting, "They beat me, Miss Miller. I'm in pain. I'm scared. But don't worry, I'm okay. These bruises will heal, Dave. I'll be okay." Wendy plastered a false smile on her stiff, broken face.

Then here she was, curled up tight in her small bed, holding her chest together, waiting for sleep to take over; to numb her and let the rest of her reality fade away ...

She was again placed in the fire. It was even worse this time, if even possible. The hot flames were swirling around her, and she was suddenly this one spot on her chest that was cracking open. Bursting with pain. Wendy coughed violently in agony. Anything to put the fire out. Anything to stop the torment. What did she do to deserve this fiery torture? Her vision was blurred, flickering fast. On. Off. On. Off.

"Miss Miller, don't worry about me. Bruises will heal, and these are just scrapes. Nothing hurts much."

Nothing except her chest. Her heart? What had they done to her? Had they poisoned her?

Admist all the fire, she felt arms enveloping her whole body. Cold? Funny how warm seemed comforting to her most of the time; this time, she begged for anything near freezing. She was shaking, her chest burning, and suddenly she felt a strange sense of calm. Someone had come to save her. She commanded her arms to stop shaking, for fear of knocking the arms away. They carried her. Wendy felt her body being lifted, her legs dangling. Where were they taking her? It must be somewhere better. Anything could be better than this.

Then the noise. High, then low. It was too loud for her. Wendy pressed her hands over her ears, but the noise didn't get any quieter. Could this have been any worse? Suddenly, the fire calmed. Was that even the right word? She couldn't describe it, but somehow it backed down, and her whole body felt numb. She wasn't sleeping. Somehow she was awake. She was floating. Wendy had her eyes squeezed tight, feeling her whole body being jerked from place to place. Was it such a long, bumpy road to heaven? Wendy sighed, her quiet shaking breathes barely audible.

So Wendy, I hope someday you can read this. God bless you and your family, especially Mattie, who stayed by your side the whole time.