Post by kelinna on Oct 14, 2010 0:28:50 GMT -5
She wondered down the empty hallway, her footsteps echoing though no one was up to hear. The pale light from the full moon lite her way through the still house, only her steady breathing assured her that she was still audible; finally making it to the foyer the white sheets faintly reminding her of ghost as they lay draped over the forgotten furniture. Brushing a strand of crimson hair form her face, she maneuvered around the ghost chairs and tables; not wanting to disturb their peaceful slumber.
Sitting there hoping for the day they are once again sat on or used by the family that abandoned them; with a shaky she wiped the sweat that had gathered on her palm on the thick sweater clothing her. Slowly undoing the locks, the frighten girl kept looking over her shoulder as each bolt went 'thump' as she inched her way towards freedom; the large pack on her back jingling from all she had crammed inside. "Lillian what are you doing?" A panic whisper paused her movements as she turned around; there on the stairs was a elderly woman, dressed in only a thin cotton nightgown her hair badly thinning from going so long without washing or going outside. "You know they will come inside if you open the door! Hurry... Hurry redo the locks or they will know! They will know..."
The scent of body waste and sour milk invaded the girl's senses as her mother worked on redoing every single lock she had painstakingly undone. Frowning she looked over at the boarded windows, nails sticking out every which way to prevent anyone or anything getting in or out; letting out a sad sigh she moved away from her deranged mother still the smell lingered in the stale air. Trying not to gag, she slowly made her way upstairs ignoring her mother’s frantic cries as one of the locks became stuck and wouldn’t close properly. Soon the banging would start, followed by more crying then screaming; till finally the old woman collapsed in exhaustion. Opening up the door to her room, the sadden girl fell atop her aged bed barely able to lay properly on the child sized mattress; rolling over onto her back she ignored the sharp pain digging into her side as she stared up at the scorched ceiling.
Years ago when she was only seven, her mother had a accident due to leaving the stove on; the house had barely survived the fire, sadly the same could be said about her. Asleep in the living room she had no way of knowing that the tickling feeling she felt was fire dancing over her prone body, that slowly the smoke was filling her lungs preventing the child from breathing. Her mother panicked and threw a blanket over her, smothering the flames and her as well. The results did not end well for her at all, her entire body was covered in angry burns leaving her a odd shade of red and blistered; gone was her hair the doctor saying it would never grow back and that she would be forced to wear only wigs. The only luck she had was that her voice box was intact and she could still walk, but what good were those things if no one would talk to her? After coming home everyone would pick on the scared girl, mocking her burns and disfiguring features; her mother not able to handle what had happen locked the house up.
No one got in, no one got out; now she lived a life of solitude, having long forgotten what fresh air smelled like or what the sun felt like on her skin. She rolled over, wincing in pain as her skin became taunt, the sound of scabs cracking and blisters threatening to pop could be heard thanks to the silence in the room. “Lillian... Lillian sweetie I made your favorite, sweetie please come out… Please, come talk to your Mommy.” The woman scratched at her locked door, whimpering in sadness as she wallowed in her self-pity and destruction. Continuing to ignore the woman’s desperate cry for attention she closed her eyes, and like always she wished she never woke up….
Sitting there hoping for the day they are once again sat on or used by the family that abandoned them; with a shaky she wiped the sweat that had gathered on her palm on the thick sweater clothing her. Slowly undoing the locks, the frighten girl kept looking over her shoulder as each bolt went 'thump' as she inched her way towards freedom; the large pack on her back jingling from all she had crammed inside. "Lillian what are you doing?" A panic whisper paused her movements as she turned around; there on the stairs was a elderly woman, dressed in only a thin cotton nightgown her hair badly thinning from going so long without washing or going outside. "You know they will come inside if you open the door! Hurry... Hurry redo the locks or they will know! They will know..."
The scent of body waste and sour milk invaded the girl's senses as her mother worked on redoing every single lock she had painstakingly undone. Frowning she looked over at the boarded windows, nails sticking out every which way to prevent anyone or anything getting in or out; letting out a sad sigh she moved away from her deranged mother still the smell lingered in the stale air. Trying not to gag, she slowly made her way upstairs ignoring her mother’s frantic cries as one of the locks became stuck and wouldn’t close properly. Soon the banging would start, followed by more crying then screaming; till finally the old woman collapsed in exhaustion. Opening up the door to her room, the sadden girl fell atop her aged bed barely able to lay properly on the child sized mattress; rolling over onto her back she ignored the sharp pain digging into her side as she stared up at the scorched ceiling.
Years ago when she was only seven, her mother had a accident due to leaving the stove on; the house had barely survived the fire, sadly the same could be said about her. Asleep in the living room she had no way of knowing that the tickling feeling she felt was fire dancing over her prone body, that slowly the smoke was filling her lungs preventing the child from breathing. Her mother panicked and threw a blanket over her, smothering the flames and her as well. The results did not end well for her at all, her entire body was covered in angry burns leaving her a odd shade of red and blistered; gone was her hair the doctor saying it would never grow back and that she would be forced to wear only wigs. The only luck she had was that her voice box was intact and she could still walk, but what good were those things if no one would talk to her? After coming home everyone would pick on the scared girl, mocking her burns and disfiguring features; her mother not able to handle what had happen locked the house up.
No one got in, no one got out; now she lived a life of solitude, having long forgotten what fresh air smelled like or what the sun felt like on her skin. She rolled over, wincing in pain as her skin became taunt, the sound of scabs cracking and blisters threatening to pop could be heard thanks to the silence in the room. “Lillian... Lillian sweetie I made your favorite, sweetie please come out… Please, come talk to your Mommy.” The woman scratched at her locked door, whimpering in sadness as she wallowed in her self-pity and destruction. Continuing to ignore the woman’s desperate cry for attention she closed her eyes, and like always she wished she never woke up….