The Survival

This is the story of the survival of a girl who was being harboured by fugitives wanted across the country for kidnapping, rape and murder. This is the story of her encounters with these men and how she survived it. Did she escape? Did she survive without scars? Is she mentally stable? Can she escape her own mind??

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It was in that moment, I knew. I would not make it out without being caught. I screamed silently, not wanting to catch their attention. I didn't know what it was that they wanted. But equally, I didn't want to find out. I sat there, shivering in the darkness, trying to stifle my sobs and dry my tears with my sleeve. I could hear them - crashing through the the house, tearing through my home like mindless wild animals. It was all I could do to stay quiet. I heard my mother scream and my whole body jolted without my consent - I felt a new wave of grief rush through my body. I could not let myself imagine what was happening out there. Baby Freddie had been crying the whole time, but, all of a sudden there was a hope shattering silence and I knew what had happened. I heard loud footsteps coming closer and closer. I shut my eyes, not wanting this to be real, but it was, and I was being stupid and naive. The closet door swung open and I heard a low snigger. I opened my eyes. Coming towards were a pair of large bloodstained hands - I screamed, I could taste the blood suddenly in my mouth, the man with the snigger had clamped his hands over my lips and quietly shouted "Shut up". I stared into his violent, squinting eyes while trying to stop myself from shaking within his iron grasp. Another looming figure walked up behind the first man, and in his rasping voice he uttered one phrase which made my whole body shudder in sheer terror: "You're a pretty one, aren't you". I could feel my eyes widening and I could feel the salt of my own tears welling up behind them. I could feel rough hands moving from my face down to my arms and then jolt me out of my hiding space. I remember crashing to the floor and then I could see my brother's cricket bat rushing towards mmy face, I closed my eyes and that was where it stopped - the memory.

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