I don't know who I should be angry at, at least the order and intensity of who and how I should be angry at. I mean my dad, in a way my mom, the fucking Bakers. They were all to blame for this sick circle of hell I have been thrust into. I didn't ask, nor do I think I've ever done anything karma could have decided I deserved, for this to happen.

My thoughts were quite rudely interrupted and came to an almighty halt from an almost inhuman screech of anger. Crap, Marguerite or uh "mama" was nearby. I was hidden inside an old couch that was against the wall in the main foyer. It was the kind where if you cut the fabric in the back or side you can see the skeleton of the couch and crawl inside. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable place in the world but it sure was convenient so nothing to sneeze at either. They haven't found me thus far, their programming only allowed them to have so much improvisation from my observations. At least that's how it's SUPPOSED to work. Lately they've been getting more and more active and the loops have started to disintegrate.

I've tracked their patterns and at first it was always the same, everyone went where they were supposed to. The only problem was that everyone was tailored to making sure I couldn't leave. Even the ones who were supposed to be on my side *cough* Zoe *cough* has managed to keep me prisoner here simply to make sure the higher powers didn't have an almighty temper tantrum.
I can't remember when exactly I got here, how many days ago it was, hell most certainly weeks at this point.

Things had gotten bad at home, that's the beginning of the reason why I'm trapped in this hell hole. Dad was just being an asshole about his eighteen year old daughter still living in his house and not going out to live on their own. Hint hint that would be yours truly. Honestly he should have been more ticked off at how my sixteen year old sister could manipulate him like a mastermind. But sadly that wouldn't have been the case since my sorry ass is here and not home. My mom was dealing with his temper tantrum and decided to make me take the car and drive to my friend's for a while to wait for this to blow over. The anger at her was small and finite but still there for thinking it would work.

But yet here I went, I was given no other choice in the matter what with him throwing shit last I saw. She readily agreed to have me over for the weekend, though thankfully didn't ask as to why I needed to come over waiting to let me rant in person.

I had her address in the gps and things were going all too swell until everything just...stopped for some reason. My phone had no service, not even one bar; the gps wasn't even attempting to load the basic map of the area either. Needless to say I got frustrated rather quickly what with my patience on a relatively thin strand and screamed in fury. You may be thinking this was a bit of an over-reaction but I assure you it's not, this is because I happened to be on an off road in the middle of fucking Louisiana.

Going the rest of the way down the bumpy as hell off road took way too long for my liking but finding people was the only possible course of action at my disposal unless I wanted to drive into a bog to my death...that option doesn't sound half bad actually.
There was a single house nearby that could possibly help me, and to be frank it was really scary looking on the outside. Like the abandoned look you see in horror movies or horror games. The face of the building gave me the worst feeling of foreboding and familiarity.

But I was completely desperate; I really needed to be able to get out of this ruddy bog. I was tentative approaching the device attached to the gate, it must be one of those things that let you talk to the person in the house, it would be pretty neat if it actually worked. Before going up I pat the different pockets of my cargo pants, making sure my wallet, phone, and knife were on me. No knowing what you would find out here, I fucking hate Louisiana.

Pressing the button only left me with static, it couldn't possibly work right? "Uh hello? Is anyone home? I'm a bit lost...and just need to find my way back to the main road..."
I was met, with silence. I press the button once more, "Please is anyone there?! Hello?!" There was still silence, silence for a good two minutes or so depending on how fast I was counting. Patience wearing thin I groan in frustration and start to turn back towards my car muttering a creative string of curse words under my breath.

I was stopped by the sudden voice of a woman through the speaker that only provided static before. "No wait! I'm sorry my daughter only just told me you were here dear." I ran back to the button, slipping on the gross mushy ground and quickly press the button eager for what really seemed like the first positive thing to happen TODAY.

"Oh my god I can't believe someone answered! I'm so lost do you know the way towards the high way?"

There was a very lengthy pause, "Come through to the front door, we have a map to help you on your way." Oh I don't like this, why couldn't she just tell me directions through the speaker?

"Okay ma'am, I'll be right up." I reach down and sling my bag over my shoulder. The gate was tough to open, screeching in the most horrific way that could only come from hinges that haven't been used in a long long time. Looking back I really want to say it was desperation that kept me going towards those doors and not the foolish stamping down of my gut feeling of the place.

Not to be disheartened, I knock on the door. The door whipped open and the first thing that hit me was the noxious smell coming from inside. The mix of sweet rot and mold was enough to almost knock my lights out before I even took notice of the woman who opened the door in the first place.

The face I see is the stuff straight out of nightmares. This woman is haggard, grey, eyes sunken so deep into her face I wasn't even sure such a thing was physically possible. I gasp in shock not knowing what to make of any of this information other than that she's basically a walking corpse. She darts forward holding my arm in a bruising grip she seemingly shouldn't have been able to achieve. I couldn't even fight against her when she started shoving a cloth against my face, a horrible musky scent filling my nostrils. Things were starting to get woozy when I was slammed with panic.

Fuck FUCK was all I could think before my vision faded to black.

A/N So! This story is a bit of an experiment, mostly to see where I can go with this and to see if it is a good idea at all. Reviews are helpful and showing me areas that I missed in my editing. I don't own anyone or anything other than my shit main character and my shit story line ;) Will see you at next chapter since it had already been written.