Isabella Agosti [Slow Updates]

S I X T E E N

~Rylan~

"Seriously, why is she even here? She's messed up! Didn't you see her earlier? She is so attention seeking!"

I didn't know who said that but tears welled up in my eyes. That hurt. How could someone say that without thinking?

I tried staying strong, not for their sake but for my own. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to feel weak. And I did not want to be here anymore. After everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours, I think I was just a little bit overwhemled.

My step-father got sent away and even though he was mean, he still gave me food (sometimes) and shelter.

I found out I had brothers and moved in with them.

I had two seizures, that I do not remember at all.

It was pretty scary and I'd currently prefer to die in a hole. Alone, because I've always been alone and will be for the foreseeable future. I like it that way, no one can hurt you and I really only trust myself anyway. You can always rely on yourself, right?

Hopefully.

Back to now, I began breathing deep and tried to control it. For the first time in ages I did because I thought of the consequences, they would find out I'm here and punish me. They would punish me for eavesdropping and then lock me in my room, or worse, the basement.

My step-father liked doing that. I didn't. It was awfully cold down there and damp and creepy. The tiny, air-locked window did little to help my past situations. The old, wooden stairs were molded over and likely to crumble at any moment. They almost did once when he pushed me down them and stomped his way down after.

I backed away, slowly, from the mean men in the sitting room. They were strangers, claiming to know me. Claiming to be related. Claiming to be family.

They weren't, definitely not. They, nobody, seemed to understand that I wanted to be alone forever. No one ever even contemplated how I would feel when they made up their mind or did as they pleased. Especially mamma.

I sniffled and ran towards the stairs. The glistening of silver caught my eye and I turned fully to the side to identify it as a door handle.

A door to where, exactly?

Pfft, hell if I know.

My hand came up to wipe away my snot and tears before the other reached out to the doorknob.

Hygiene first children.

I twisted it and yanked the door open all the way. A bitter breeze hit me as I moved forward, steping in the pitch black. It seemed it was a door to a staircase, possibly a basement.

Most likely a basement.

I shivered, the multiple memories of my experiences in basements entering my mind. Did I really want to go down there? Come on, with my pathetic self, I highly doubt I could will myself to go down there. Plus, there's no light switch, as far as I can tell. And dark spaces and I don't mix well together.

With a final thought of my not-so-fatherly step-father, I slamed the entryway shut and ran upstairs. I cried and cried, feeling pity for myself. I ended up hiding in the closet of my room, deeming it a safe space. The clothing racks were far from full but I found a couple empty carboard boxes for protection.