"We understand death only after it has placed its hands on someone we love."- Anne L.de Stael 

 "Mia, wake up!" Whispered a soft, hushed voice.

In fact, it was so hushed I almost had thought I was just hearing things.That was until out of nowhere a loud door slam pierced through the silent hallway from the room right next to ours, creating enough force to vibrate the old wooden floors which we were laying on.

"Mia! Please wake up! I'm scared!"Panic flooding the little girl's voice.

l automatically knew who it was that was calling for me.

"Holly, where are you?" I whispered back, trying to look through the pitch-black room.

The foster people we live with don't allow us to have the lights on after 7:30.

Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way.

You see, if you have the lights on after the restricted time, you'll get punished.

The punishments are plainly decided on how drunk Mrs. and Mr. Rockwell were that night.

On a good night, punishments usually consist of not allowed to go to sleep until they decide they worked you lang enough or going a couple of nights without dinner, sometimes both.

But if they start drinking the punishments become more violent.

Mrs. Rockwell has never psychically abused any of the kids here but better yet she sits back and watches her husband do all the work, smiling.

I remember the first time James Rockwell hit me, I wanted to drop to my knees and cry out for my mother, but I didn't.

You see when you've been in the system as long as I have you learn how to control showing your emotions.

Because people like James and Martha thrive on seeing you break down, they get off on it.

"Come here, you stupid bitch!"

Mrs.Rockwell sneered at me.

"No, I'm sorry, whatever I did wrong I won't do it again! I promise!"

I begged her.

"Damn right you won't do it again!"

Martha laughed, the malevolent smile on her face sent horrid chills up my spine.

alcohol rolled off her thin body in waves that were even

up here, we got a

only allowed one shower a week, and pulled as hard as she could,

out my chest when

breathing started to increase, and my

got to the second floor he had to hold the walls on either side

was dirtier than mine,

smile started to form on his face, showing his yellow

of alcohol was nauseating on Mrs.Rockwell, James was

what do we have

and gripped my wrist in his dirty, rough

body slowly, I could

out of her room after curfew, honey.What should we

Martha's voice sounded entertained.

had to go to

by the hard

silently winced as my face began to

leave your room after 9 oclock,

voice echoed in

me I wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom

because his free hand, that wasn't death gripping my wrist, started to travel up

feeling made my

sides of my stomach

huh? beg me, beg me to stop, you useless excuse

and tighter around my neck, squeezing his dirty hails into my

lungs were

wanted to cry, I wanted to

everything went black was when I was younger, my mother would

for hours looking up at the stars, she once told me that for every star my eye could

we die our souls leave our bodies, and float into the universe, shining for the

are nothing more than balls of

I've

"Over here."

soft voice filled

other sleeping kids, laying on

care, she's been here for about a

for two

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