A/N-This story is based on a character from Visser. If you haven't read it, you won't recognize the character, but the story will still make sense to you.
As always, please R&R!
~If you cooperate, human, I will give you a bottle.
Yeah. A bottle. I wanted one of them. All I had to do was tell them about my life? And I didn't even have to beg for it.
He only asked me about Essam. But I felt my mind going back much farther…
"You little shit!" she screamed, swinging her fist at me.
I ducked. Only six, my mother still blamed everything that happened on me. Dad, too, now that I think about it.
I stood up, tears flowing down my face. She swung at me again, and her hand connected with my face. I fell down, crying.
"Look at you! Pathetic! Always crying, boo-hoo, poor me! If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be getting evicted! Do you want them to take you away?"
I sniffled. "N-n-no…"
"Then quit your crying! Don't you know that'll bring them here?"
The "them" my mother was speaking of was DSS. She always warned me about them. She told me they would do experiments on you if they took you away, and she said if anyone ever saw her hit me they would take me and cut me open. I hated the sight of blood.
For as long as I could remember, I was told that it would be the worst thing in the world for them to come find us, and take me. I believed it…
The landlord evicted us for not having our rent. We took our car and drove off.
We lived in the car for about a week. My memories from then are sketchy. I can recall one time, sitting in the backseat with a burger in my hand but too scared to eat it. Dad told me that if I got one drop of ketchup on the seat he would send me to DSS. Naturally this petrified me. I didn't eat very much on that trip.
We found a home after that. Mom said we were in Richmond, Virginia. I didn't know about anything like that. School didn't teach us much, and I didn't like learning.
I was turned off from school from the first time they told us to report it if anyone hit us. They said they would take care of us. Ha! I knew better than that. They just wanted someone else to do experiments on.
Every parent hits their child.
I started going to school there. It all was fine for a couple years. When I was eight, (I don't remember what grade I was in now,) I got a new teacher. Her name was Ms. Kirkpatrick. She was very nice, or so she wanted us to think. But she was very nosey. She was always asking if our parents were nice or strict, home a lot or sent us to daycare.
At first when I met her I was scared she worked for DSS. After a few months I figured she was just nosey. I was still as ambiguous as possible, at least, as ambiguous as an eight year old can be.
One day we came in and Ms. Kirkpatrick seemed very sad. She didn't call roll, so I figured everyone was here, until I looked around.
"Where's Mark?" I asked the girl next to me, Tiffany.
She shrugged. "I saw someone come by his house yesterday. He left with them. I don't know why."
My blood froze. Just then, Ms. Kirkpatrick came next to me and saw a bruise on my arm. I quickly tried to conceal it, but she saw it and grabbed my arm.
"What's this?" she asked me.
"I…I fell," I said lamely.
"Hmm," she said, and walked away.
That day I knew, I just knew, that she would take me away. Do experiments on me, claiming she was taking care of me. There was only one thing I could do.
I ran away.
As always, please R&R!
~If you cooperate, human, I will give you a bottle.
Yeah. A bottle. I wanted one of them. All I had to do was tell them about my life? And I didn't even have to beg for it.
He only asked me about Essam. But I felt my mind going back much farther…
"You little shit!" she screamed, swinging her fist at me.
I ducked. Only six, my mother still blamed everything that happened on me. Dad, too, now that I think about it.
I stood up, tears flowing down my face. She swung at me again, and her hand connected with my face. I fell down, crying.
"Look at you! Pathetic! Always crying, boo-hoo, poor me! If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be getting evicted! Do you want them to take you away?"
I sniffled. "N-n-no…"
"Then quit your crying! Don't you know that'll bring them here?"
The "them" my mother was speaking of was DSS. She always warned me about them. She told me they would do experiments on you if they took you away, and she said if anyone ever saw her hit me they would take me and cut me open. I hated the sight of blood.
For as long as I could remember, I was told that it would be the worst thing in the world for them to come find us, and take me. I believed it…
The landlord evicted us for not having our rent. We took our car and drove off.
We lived in the car for about a week. My memories from then are sketchy. I can recall one time, sitting in the backseat with a burger in my hand but too scared to eat it. Dad told me that if I got one drop of ketchup on the seat he would send me to DSS. Naturally this petrified me. I didn't eat very much on that trip.
We found a home after that. Mom said we were in Richmond, Virginia. I didn't know about anything like that. School didn't teach us much, and I didn't like learning.
I was turned off from school from the first time they told us to report it if anyone hit us. They said they would take care of us. Ha! I knew better than that. They just wanted someone else to do experiments on.
Every parent hits their child.
I started going to school there. It all was fine for a couple years. When I was eight, (I don't remember what grade I was in now,) I got a new teacher. Her name was Ms. Kirkpatrick. She was very nice, or so she wanted us to think. But she was very nosey. She was always asking if our parents were nice or strict, home a lot or sent us to daycare.
At first when I met her I was scared she worked for DSS. After a few months I figured she was just nosey. I was still as ambiguous as possible, at least, as ambiguous as an eight year old can be.
One day we came in and Ms. Kirkpatrick seemed very sad. She didn't call roll, so I figured everyone was here, until I looked around.
"Where's Mark?" I asked the girl next to me, Tiffany.
She shrugged. "I saw someone come by his house yesterday. He left with them. I don't know why."
My blood froze. Just then, Ms. Kirkpatrick came next to me and saw a bruise on my arm. I quickly tried to conceal it, but she saw it and grabbed my arm.
"What's this?" she asked me.
"I…I fell," I said lamely.
"Hmm," she said, and walked away.
That day I knew, I just knew, that she would take me away. Do experiments on me, claiming she was taking care of me. There was only one thing I could do.
I ran away.
