My Hidden Heart

16-year-old Gianna, is in need of some help. She needs to escape. With an abusive father and step-mother, a sister that's near death, and a loving mother dying in the hospital, her life is falling apart. Until she meets Niall. He's different from other people, and madly in love with her. But he won't tell her who he is. He says it will change her life. But Gianna is in need of some change. How far will she go to find out the truth? my first fan fic/mystery story... I hope you like it! comment comment favorite favorite and like it up! :*


5. Not Reality

I cackle as I get engergized by the sudden turn on power. For a year and a half of being locked up in a closet, I had been trapped and bound by her authority. But now, I carry my sister and I out that window of hell. I have beaten Mara and now am ready to taste the freedom God has blessed me with. I look to my limp sister's body and my eyes fill with salty tears. I whisper, "Everything's going to be alright now. We are out of this mess." But she doesnt respond. She couldn't have given up now, it's too close to the end of our fight. I cannot carry Sasha all the way to complete safety, but I also can't leave her here. I need something easier to transport her in. I then remember that we have a hand truck in the garage. I search my mind for the passcode to open the garage but I can't think straight. I maybe can sneak through a window to retrieve it from the garage. So I place Sasha carefully down on the cool grass and pad over to the side of the garage. I stare up at the window in front of me and doubt myself. I can't get up there and thourgh, and back. It's about a foot higher than my hand when I extend my arms toward it. As I tilt my head back in frustration, something to my left catches my eye. I see something glimmer against the black of the night. So I turn my head in defense and pull my hands into fists. Then, I realize it's the hand-truck. I start to get emotional because God really does want me to win this fight. I secretly thank him and continue my journey. I pull the hand-truck towards me, then my sister. I pick her body up and lay her down onto it. It may  be a bumpy and uncomfortable ride, but it's the price we have to pay for actually escaping. It's worth it. I tilt it towards me and straighten my arms. Her weight pulls me towards the ground, but I carry on e]anyway. I roll down the driveway, onto the sidewalk, then straight because my thpuoghts are getting hazy from exhaustion so I have to slow everything down. If I make turns, I will get lost and most likely die. I shift from foot to foot as I trudge slowly down the street. I reach the end of "Mausling Dr." But I have no idea where to turn. So I just keep walking across a busy street, even at 1:00 in the morning. I wearily cross the street and the people in cars give me dirty looks. I can't blame them. A girl that looks like she's on drugs carrying a skinny body on a hand-truck. I feel humiliated but I dont care because all I want to do is lay down. I get to the sidewalk on the other end of the street. It's downtown Blairsdon, a place full of busy shops, usually exciting during the day. But now, it's dead. The only people I see are scary druggies and addicts. I shiver with fear when I pass them. My breathing slows and my chest tightens. I gasp for breath and complete and utter terror fills my shaken body. I turn into an alley between the fancy hotel at the end of dowtotwn entering the rich part and a local Quik Check. I drop to my knees and plop down into the trash bags covvering most of the dark alley. My head spins and spins with the horror of tonight's events, and victory. Then, my ears pick up the smallest sound against the white noise of traffic. It's someone's voice. I relax because it sounds comforting, unlike all of the poeple I've seen for two years. An irish accent so angelic that I swaer it's someone ready to take me to heaven. Sasha is motionless but I have no pain. I let the voice take me and realize that the fight is over. I may not have compeletly won over Mara, but it beats being tortured. I feel gentle hands grab my shoulders and lift me up. I float towards my creator and let nature take it's course.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...