Falling

I was bored so I wrote this and I hope you like it :P

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1. Kidnapped.

My name is Brooke. Brooke Taylor. I'm fourteen years old. I've lived in Mullingar, Ireland, for as long as I can remember... that was before all this trouble happened. My parents were murdered along with my brother, I was kidnapped and that's why I'm sat alone in a small, cramped room, walls dripping with grime. There's a tiny, hard, lumpy bed in the corner of the room which I'm sitting on, huddled up, cuddling my legs in attempt to stay warm. My fingers are numb, my toes are numb, my stomach is churning. 

 

Just two hours ago I was stood in my homely kitchen cooking tea for my family when two men barged into our house uninvited holding revolvers in their hands and aiming at my mother, before she could scream for help they'd shot her. Straight through the heart. The bang had aroused my dad who come running to the kitchen, he'd barely walked a few steps before he was dead as well, my brother following straight after him.

 

All this time I'd been frozen, feet glued to the floor, too scared and shocked to say or do anything, before I knew it the men had carried me out into the freezing winter air, wearing nothing but my trackies, bundled me into the backseat of a battered car and driven down the road at top speed. An hour later the car pulled up outside a house, it looked desolate and had an eerie demeanour.

 

The two mysterious men dragged me roughly up the creaking stairs, shoved me roughly into this room and left me here, they must have left the house because the only sounds audible to my ears was my own breathing. I decided the only thing I could do right now was sleep because this room held nothing of interest. It held nothing at all except for a single bed and my precious body.

 

My precious body that would soon be broken.

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