Their Beloved Little Goddess

Chapter One: Home, Wretched, Home

In a cozy looking family home near Charleston, South Carolina it was quiet with everyone asleep in their beds. Outside, it was early in the morning, before the sun was due to be up. The weather around the sleeping neighborhood grew wild, like a caged animal waiting to be released. Wind ran through the leaves on the tall trees that surrounded the homes that nestled close to the wooded area like a cheetah racing to catch a gazelle. Rain had started only a few minutes ago, pouring down in waves and showing no sign of stopping any time soon. In the sky, above the tallest tree lightening struck over and over again, totaling seventeen times before stopping completely. A loud and heavy clap of thunder roared overhead. It was quickly fallowed by two others a little farther away. Then one even closer than the first thunder clap, sounding louder than the others and almost proud?

In the smallest bedroom of the family home a petite form began to twist and turn underneath the light blanket that covered her. For a moment she stilled then with a almost silent gasp Sang Sorenson jolted up, nearly falling out of the bed. She shook her head, thanking whatever higher power she could think of for not falling off the bed. Had she done so she—Sang didn't want to think of the punishment that would happen to her if she woke her stepmother. As she sat up Sang winced. She could feel the soft ache of her ribs on her left side. She knew that if she were to take a look that she would see the familiar shades of black, blue, and purple that laid scattered around her body. The beating she took last night was for coming home late from work and not making dinner on time.

Sang shook her head as she moved slowly off the twin size bed and onto the cold wooden floor, wincing. Pulling up a loose floorboard that was right in front of her crossed legs she reached in and pulled out a diary that she had been keeping for the past year and a half. The diary was a gift from her boss at work that she had received as part of being employee of the month a while back. It's outside was a soft brown fake leather with a flower pattern. The diary was able to be locked and Sang kept the key taped to the underside of the drawer of the nightstand that sat next to her bed. After reaching up and flicking on the small bedside lamp and grabbing one of the pens that she kept on there, she pulled the drawer out far enough, peeled back the duct tape, and grasped the tiny metal key.

The heart shaped lock that kept Sang's thoughts, nightmares, and secrets clicked open. Sang replaced the key to where it belonged and grabbed her newest disposable camera. After closing the drawer back up she turned to an empty page about halfway through the diary, bookmarking it before turning to the back where she kept two small manila envelopes that were almost identical. She didn't use the diary on a daily but she made sure to put in what was important. Over time Sang had come to the conclusion that her stepmother wouldn't just stop the behavior that her father had let her get away with for so long. So she began to document everything. Sang kept dates, she kept times, and she now kept pictures. One day soon she was going to leaves for she knew the only way of getting out without her stepmonster putting up a fight would be to blackmail her into silence. She didn't know when or where she would go. All she knew was that things were getting worst for her and she didn't deserve this life. The only reason she had stayed for as long as she had was because she was under the impression that her stepmother was still sick. This was still somewhat true. Diana Sorenson was sick. But she was no longer physically sick. Mrs. Sorenson had beaten the cancer that had made her so ill almost three years ago. Now, Diana was just a wicked monster that only got joy when she was high off pain medicine or when she hurt Sang.

     Sang checked to make sure she still had film before she lifted her shirt, rolling it just under her breast. She then angled the disposable camera and took what pictures she needed. When she was done with the camera she slid it into the bag she would take with her to work. Sang would have to leave a bit earlier to drop off the camera at the photoshop a little ways down the road from the library that she worked at and would have to remember to pick up the pictures during her lunch break. Looking at the time on the little pink alarm clock that she kept on the nightstand she sighed.