"Nightmares
"Hide!" Drina's mother's face was a mask of pale terror and pain, a look she had never seen her otherwise strong mother wear. She was too frightened to question her and scurried out to the crawlspace underneath the stairs. The pounding on the door got louder and Drina covered her ears with her tiny hands, wet tears streaming down her face. A loud crack resounded through the air as she watched the door split open through the tiny crack in the small crawlspace.
A large man and an equally large woman stepped in, both wearing black pants and shirts and carrying multiple and equally dangerous weapons.
"We don't have much time Melinda, where is the child?" the large man shouted.
"Go to Hell!" her mother spat venomously. The man lifted his hand and hit her mother so hard in the face that she slammed into the wall. Drina flinched. She wanted to cry out, to go to her mother. But something inside her urged her to stay. The woman, a shock of long blonde hair, began walking up the corridor. Drina pushed herself against the wall, trying not to breathe. She heard her mother stagger to her feet. A strangled gasp escaped her mouth as she saw the welt swelling on her mother's face. She realized her mistake too late, as the small door opened and the woman pulled her out. Drina thrashed and struggled but the woman's grip was vice-like. Drina shuddered at the cruelty in her eyes.
"Ah, so this is the little creature," she heard the man say as he walked up to her and tugged on her black curls. "You don't look like much. Now stop fooling around! We have to leave before…" suddenly Drina's mother was attacking the man desperately trying to get to her daughter. She clawed at the man's face. In a rage, he spun around, stabbing her mother in the chest with his huge blade.
"Momma!" Drina cried as her mother slumped to the floor, her face a mask of wordless agony. She watched as her mother's life, along with her blood, flowed out of her.
"No time!" the woman hissed. Drina was struggling, trying to break free, when suddenly she heard the sound of windows breaking upstairs. The blonde woman swore.
"We have to leave her," the woman whispered hurriedly.
"But…"
"We must! We will find her again." The woman calmed the fidgeting man. Suddenly, the man came closer to Drina holding the dagger that was still red with her mother's blood. He smiled a twisted smile, one that showed her every one of his crooked, sharp teeth.
"I'll make sure of that," the man said, inching the dagger closer to her face, the metal glinting in her eye, the sharp point pricking her soft flesh-