Mated With Five Boys

"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.

body in waves that were even making me

your fat ass up

dirty because we are only allowed one shower a week, and

my chest when

my lungs started

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

was dirtier than mine,

to me a crooked smile started to form on his

the smell of alcohol was nauseating on Mrs.Rockwell, James was on

well, what do we

wrist

over my body slowly, I could basically see the devil coming out

her room after curfew, honey.What should we do

Martha's voice sounded entertained.

had to

tried to explain but was quickly stopped by the hard slapped that was placed on my left

winced as my

room after 9

angry voice echoed in

me I wasn't allowed to

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

made my stomach

my

beg me, beg me to stop, you useless excuse for

tighter and tighter around my neck,

lungs were pleading

wanted to fight, I

thought that crossed my mind before everything went black was when I was younger, my mother would

told me that for every star my eye could see, that it was the soul of someone's

for the people they love back

balls of gas, I really hope you're

I've never

"Over here."

voice filled the quiet

sleeping kids, laying on the ground on their

kid under the Rockwell's care, she's been here

I've been here for two months and fifteen