Young Writers Society

heyy sorry for interupting the story but i sorta (not be wierded out i was a cheer leader so therfore not compleatly deranged) i sorta wrote this part in 4th grade and still didnt get the chance to revise it sorry...javascript:emoticon':oops:'

You won’t be able to comprehend what I mean, and what I’m describing unless you have been there! You cannot even imagine what it felt like! Being beaten by your father because you wet the bed when you were one! Seeing your mother miscarry because she was running from her husband’s bloodthirsty knife! Unless the general population has experienced these things, which I seriously doubt, you have no idea how much physical and emotional pain one feels! The worst part was having all of those things done to you was normal. The men were welcomed back by their friends and had more to drink and new drugs to take. While the women only briefly sympathize for one another, for they had to take care of their own children’s wounds, their own wounds! It made me so mad! I couldn’t take it! But who was I to challenge the natural order of things? Even the people who lived in nicer areas had this happen to them surely. Right?

I had two brothers and three sisters at that time. Rose, Mary, Robert, Marigold, and Jake, in that order from oldest to youngest. When I was eleven Rose was taking care of everyone who was at the house at age 16. Instead of being married to some drug addicted, alcoholic, jerk. [This was considered a find gentleman compared to a lot of the men out there in the city.] She was taking care of five wild kids. She didn’t have to worry about taking care of two of the kids thou, I’ll explain later.

Only a year before, our mother and father died. None of us were that sorry when Dad was killed I mean he’s the bogie man come to life! Plus for an added bounds for his judgment day, he was the one who killed are mother. Are mother died trying to shield me, and Jake from one of our father’s rages. I remembered hiding in the grimy, termite infested, closet in are bedroom. I remembered feeling a rats tail slither on the bare skin of my leg. Even thou it was anything but silent, from my parents screaming and my mother sobbing. I could hear my heart vary clearly, as well as my twin’s. I remember hearing bones crunch and then shatter and mother screaming in pain, as her porcelain glass bones collapsed under our fathers giant, clumsy ones. I remember seeing another red sunset fall across the sky, are mothers blood matching it. Closing my eyes I cussed. I cussed because I didn’t make it on time to meet them. If only I hadn’t done that, and kept my mouth shut....

Unlike in the Movies, I didn’t see my entire pathetic, miserable, life flashing past my eyes. Instead I saw what would happen to Rose, and Marigold. Out trying to get some food, in the scummy foodless, market. I will not repeat the gruesome vision behind that. For I’m pretty sure that you won’t want to read anymore. (So there, just for your unimaginative brain I am cutting back on the story! Thank you, so very much!) Robert would come home last. He would shout out in surprise. Seeing his entire family dead and his father waiting to kill him too. Robert would fight back of course. Saying all of the curses he knew. -Which is quite a few- He was in a gang were if you didn’t fight, you ran, and lived. You still died. Summary: your friends killed you. Robert would die the same bloody, cruel, guts flying every ware death as the rest of the family. Oops. I just told you what would happen to Rose and Marigold.

Now you’re probably wondering why Mary isn’t in any of the visions. And why I didn’t mention her recently. Well I have a simple answer to that, one moment please. …. Ahem… SHES A COMPLEATE SKANK!!!!!!

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wow what a cliff hanger!!! haha btw i have more on the story if your interested just pm me!!