A/N: I know most -well everything- in this chappie is bogus because of AWE but that's ok. Right? RIGHT?!?!
HAHA! I finaly updated for real.
When I was three my mother got pregnant, and at four my baby sister Jessica was born.
One day my father lost his job he became a drunk, never went anywhere without a bottle of vodka in his hand. To this day I don't drink vodka.
Well back to the story. My father wasn't a nice drunk he was an angry, vicous drunk.
I was four and a half when it happened...
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
I was sitting in the small living room of our small house, I was watching me baby sister sleep in her (hand-me-down) cradle. Me mother was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Me father was at the kitchen table drinking. They started fighting... as always.
"You know I 'ate 'abbage stew!" he said angrely.
"I know but there's notin' else," she shot back.
Through the walls it was like they were just talking, but actualy they were screaming.
"If ther's notin' else then steal some'tin I like!"
"I'm NOT stealin' notin'!" she screamed angrely. "We 're not a pirate family and we never will be!"
"I don' care!" I heard a click. "If ye won' listen tah me, ye don' 'ave a perpose!"
BANG! BANG!
I left Jessica in her cradle. I ran into the kitchen.
What I saw scared me for life.
Me mother with a bullet through her chin into her brain, and another in her chest, her heart.
Blood every where. All over her, all over me father, all over the kitchen floor, all over me feet , and all over the walls.
"Stay here!" he told me firmly, pistol in hand. He walking past me down into the livin' room.
I crawled over to me mother. I held her head to me chest and started to cry.
I sobbed. I sobbed for the loss of me mother. I sobbed for the teachery of me father. I sobbed for Jessica, who would never know her mother. And I sobbed for me, who, I thought would not remember me mother's scent, the color of her eyes, the way -when father got too angry- would take me into Jessica's room have me hold Jessica and she would hold me. Or even worse I would remember these things and know I wouldn't ever get to experience these again.
I heard another click.
BANG!
I ran into the living room, covered in blood tear stains running down my cheeks. It was just as I left it.
I ran into my room. Empty.
I ran into Jessica's room. Empty.
I ran into my parents room. Mary mother of God.
My father with his brains blown out and the gun handle in his hand, the barrel in his mouth.
I ran into the kitchen again told my dead mother that "father was dead, killed himself."
I ran into the living room and held Jessica tight to my still little chest. I sobbed we were orphans.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Well that was the beginning of my tale, this was completely truthful and one hundred percent accurate. In the next chapter I will tell you of my four year old sister.
Disclaimer: I don't own Johnny Depp or his sexy ater-ego.
