Darren's Story

PoV: Darren, "My Little Sister"

I was thirteen when she was taken from me. We were a comfortable family, living not too wealthy, but not in poverty as well. We were truly comfortable. We could do things nice such as go on vacation from time to time, go watch movies, we could have fun without worrying about finance. We didn't have enemies, as far as I was aware. We were an ordinary family in an ordinary city living ordinary lives. 

Then one day I was awakened by something going on in my house. I couldn't tell what it was at first because of my stupor, but when I finally collected myself and was coherent, I knew what it was. I heard my little sister, who was nine at the time, screaming. She was in pain. They were almost rhythmic screams... 

I didn't know I could move so fast. When I went into her room, I saw her being taken by force. She was bloody, and the figure on top of her didn't look human. When I tried to get him off of her in my fit of rage and hatred, I was knocked unconscious. I cannot remember anything between my saying night-night to the world and my waking up the following day. When I returned to the land of the conscious, the only thing signalling that it wasn't a bad dream were the blood stains everywhere and the silver necklace with the charm on it that belonged to her. 

Shreds of clothing were present from her encounter, but outside of that, there was nothing more to go by. It tore me up to think that I couldn't stop whatever it was from taking her, both sexually as well as physically removing herself from my life. I couldn't protect my little sister. And where were my parents? When I went to go find them, since I knew they should have been there, I found them in their room, seemingly blissful in their deaths as their throats had been left to dry, split open deeply. Their eyelids were closed. 

Some sick fucker took everything from me. It has been five years since I have started looking for my sister, and I have to assume she is dead, but I want to find her body. I want to find some sort of conclusion. I have been traveling to the far ends of this damned Earth to find her, preferably alive. I have had no leads. I still wear her necklace, I still have the hope that I can find her, still alive, and possibly well. I have to assume the worst, though...

I still have to live with the memories of her cries of help, her bloody, bare body. Her looking so broken in that moment. I have to live with the feeling of not being good enough for her. For failing in my one job as a big brother. I failed, and that is all there is to it. I will find her. And I will make the motherfucker who did this to her pay with more than just his life. If I find that bastard, Hell will be a respite. 

~Darren "Whisper"