Note To Readers: I'm not doing third person, thank you. First...Well, honestly, I just don't feel like it. Also, again, I know I don't know exactly what happened, but...Ah, forget that. In the Prologue of Dave's third book A Man Named Dave, the scary devil lady claims to have been treated worse then him...So...Yeah.
WHY, GOD?
Salt Lake City, Utah, 1934
Roerva could hardly see through the tears in her eyes. Her bruised eye pulsed with a dull but prominent pain. She could feel it swelling.
Her mother had given her something to cry about, alright. She'd been picked on all her life, even if it was only five years at the time. In this deeply religious town, she and her brother and sister were known as the "Devil's Spawn". Her mother and father were divorced, which went against 'God's plan', and that made them all evil.
An older boy had been picking on her and she'd snapped. She'd punched that boy, giving him a bloody nose. Her mother Ruth had just gotten back from being screamed at by the entire town to 'keep those mutant creatures of yours under control.'
The cost of even the slightest tarnish of her already soiled reputation was bad.
"If you weren't such a bitch, she wouldn't have to hurt you." Her brother Dylan sneered, smiling with a savage look of sadism on his face. That was her game as well. Roerva and her brother. It was war. Their was never any love or friendship, only hate and malice. Roerva, at five years old, knew that it was everyone for themselves. Nether of them ever had each other's backs, and trust wasn't even a fantasy.
Living in such a house, love, trust, and other words like that were just meaningless childish words from fairy-tail books wrote to lie to children and make them think they mean something when all they have is death lying ahead for them.
Her mother, Ruth, was only concerned with herself and her image. She always ranted about how if their father was still around, she'd stick him with 'You spoiled little brats' and be happy to be rid of them all. Roerva knew it was true, too.
For a duel punishment, she'd be locked in her 'devil's room', as her mother called it. A devils room was a small closet with no room to even move. The only 'luxury' was the vents in the doors allowing for air. It was a fairly routine punishment for her and her mother didn't even have to tell her about how she'd receive no water for three days and no food for a week.
Ruth demanded conformity. Everyone was to believe in God and read the Bible and fallow the rules. She didn't need to be further outcast by his town. Her outward appearance was more then a million times important then those 'Free-loading brats' her husband left her with.
Ruth was never seen without booze in her hand. Roerva, though curious, stayed away in light of what she'd seen Dylan go through.
He'd once been caught having a shoot and within the hour Ruth had sent him to the emergency room, in more ways then one. Dylan hadn't been back for a month and during the time he was gone, Ruth told the neighbors and authorities that his sister had ganged up on him and tried to kill him. Perhaps only to cover up her story, Roerva was locked in their brother's devil room and received a cup of water every three days and a small plate of food at the end of every week. This went on for two months.
When Dylan came back, Ruth did nothing, and just let his nearly murderous sister do the dirty work for her. They both received the harshest beating anyone's ever known after the fight.
Roerva was scared. She had never truly believed in God. If he was their, she wouldn't be here. At age five, Rovera was cold, unfeeling towards her fellow man, and willing to do anything to get out of this condemned mental clinic they called a house.
I would have have updated this MUCH sooner, but a series of computer-issued prevented this. Also, Richard Pelzer has reviewed my story. Sir, let me just say how truly honored I am by your review. I hope I'm getting it right, too. Review.