I wanted to call it a thriller/horror but also with some romance. Couldn't find that category so other will have to do. I have high hopes for this story but please read and include as much critism as your heart desires. I promise not to be upset by it as long as you promise to be fair. I do not want any homophobic comments, if you don't like the subjects mentioned here, then don't read.


16. For the best





I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking as I felt the hands pull away from me. The sharp nails and whispering voices vanished into the dark that surrounded me. I blinked hard; spinning around frantically in an attempt to spot the dark figures which I was sure had crossed over from my nightmares. But the white walls revealed nothing, their colour still clear to me even in the dark basement. I moved from my position on the floor, my neck aching from where I had huddled against the radiator. I don’t remember the reason why I was down here. I just remember her hands removing me from my bed and her nails embedding themselves into my scalp. I rubbed her head at the memory and listened intently for signs of movement above me, but there was nothing. I moved to the door, ignoring the ghostly image of myself that was reflected in the handle and listened. Surely, it was nearly morning now. She wouldn’t leave me here for Bobby to discover. Perhaps it was already morning and Bobby had gone to school alone. Or maybe it was the middle of the night and I had only just dropped back to sleep.

I couldn’t be sure and I didn’t want to fall asleep again through fear of the voices, their hands shaking me and hurting me until it felt so much like real life, I swear, I awoke with fresh bruises on my skin. They had gotten worse since I’d met Wednesday, they had new reasons to torment me. If not for them, then this form of punishment might not have been so bad. When I had the voice nightmares, I would sometimes go to Bobby’s room and my confused, sleepy brother would pull me into his arms and we would sleep together. At first light I would sneak back into my room but just to have his little arms around me, loving me, protecting me, was enough to keep the voices at bay. He never asked but he knew I had nightmares. I loved him all the more for not asking.

I hit my head against the door in frustration that I could be stuck down here for another day. The door let out a wooden thump as if protesting but there was no other sound. I hit my head again and listened for the metallic clink of the lock as it moved against the bolt on the other side. There was nothing. I waited for footsteps and the swift movement of the door that would surely come next but still there was nothing, just my heavy breathing as I debated what to do next. I stilled my shaking hands on the door handle and closed my eyes tight. I let myself move the handle down and pull on the door. The hinges let out a small whine in the darkness but other than that the silence was undisturbed. I listened again, the blood thumping in my ears so loud that I could hardly hear my breathing which I was sure would give me away. This was stupid. The second she knew I had been out, she would surely lock me back in there, properly this time, for days. Rebecca would worry. Bobby would worry. But something pushed me forwards.

I crept up the steps, avoiding the few I knew that squeaked and reached for the second door. My hand slipped the first time on the metal and I had to grip the handle with two hands. Where would I go? What would I do? I could get Bobby and go. Go where? I thought hard. Rebecca was my only friend but with her Mother, going to her house was out of the question. We could go …

To the children’s home. If I took Bobby and explained everything to them. If I told them all about what she did to me, then maybe. Maybe, there was a chance. She would never hurt me again.

The lock clinked against the wood. That sound echoed in my ears and seemed to move through me, as if I was nothing more than air. I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until then and gasped loudly to get some air into my lungs. Suddenly there seemed to be too much of it, I was drowning. I breathed in the stale air of basement, tears now streaming down my face and I clawed desperately at my throat, trying to make it work like it should. But it was no use. I grabbed for the wall as I felt my legs buckle underneath me but the white walls betrayed me and I cartwheeled down the stairs, falling head over heels before landing in a pile at the bottom. The world spun and the stairs seemed to stretch upwards. A warm substance covered my head and neck but felt nice and soothing. I panicked as I realised I should be able to feel pain but relaxed when I realised this was probably for the best. I smiled to myself as my eyes started to cloud over, the black filling my mind and ridding me of any bad thoughts. I saw a small boy whose face I vaguely recognised coming down the stairs before my world disappeared.

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