Chapter 1- Emilianne

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  • Dedicated to For Mrs. Knight; for being the best English teacher anyone could ask for.
                                    

Hey guys. Hope you like this.

I may stop at a random spots in the middle of some chapters. Sorry.

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 This chapter is probably going to be short and or boring to most of you reading this, but please bare with me. I hope that you find the story to get more interesting as it progresses. Keep reading[:

And for those who may not be able to pronounce the main characters name, Its Emily-Ann.

Enjoy.

*Chapter 1- Emilianne*

"Run Em! Run!"

I was trying to quicken my pace, taking longer strides as I ran through the black house. It felt like my feet were beginning to glue to the carpet, making it harder for me to run. The stairs appeared in front of me so quick that I didn't notice them until I tumbled down them face first. I gazed up the forever long staircase to see if he was still following me. I hastily got up and ran into the kitchen to find the wall phone. I jerked it off the charger and held it in my quivering hands. "Nine-one-one." I whispered to myself while trying to push the buttons without messing up. An ear throbbing scream came from upstairs in my mom's room followed by a boom of thunder. More tears spilled out of my bloodshot eyes. I held the phone to my ear and tried not to scream into the phone when a lady picked up.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?" She asked in a monotone.

"Help me, help, please. There's a man in my house trying to kill my mom. Help!" My attempt not to scream failed as I talked into the receiver.

"Where are you located, ma'am?" She asked me.

"23174 Lauren, Roseville..Hurry, please! He's hurting my mom!"

"Police are on the way, get to a safe place and don't let him hear or see you. I'll stay on the phone with you until forces arrive." She sounded almost concerned. Her milky voice and assuring words weren't enough to keep me calm and sane.

"Emmm..Where are you Em?" I could hear the sick smile on his face as hes stomped down the stairs with his heavy work boots, looking for me. I hope that one of the laces were untied and he tripped down the stairs and plummeted to his death. Unfortunately, that did not happen. My mothers screams finally faded and there was nothing but deadly silence swirling around in the house.  I crawled under the oak kitchen table and curled up in a ball, hoping that it was enough to fool him.

Silly me.

Wet hands gripped my ankles and I let out an ear piercing shriek as they dragged me out from under the table. I tried to find something to grab on to, but there was nothing but the floor, which my nails were digging into and leaving blood trails as I was swung out from under the table. The phone fell to the floor.

I woke myself up with my own blood curdling scream in a cold sweat. Warm arms wrapped around me and soft whispers were brushing against my ringing ears. It was my older sister, Erica.

My head fell on her hard shoulder and I sobbed until my eyes ran dry of tears.

"You had that dream again, didn't you Emlianne?" She asked me in a soft tone, while rocking me back and forth in her arms.

I just nodded. I've been having that dream almost every night since it happened. My mother's crazed and mentally ill ex boyfriend, Paul, broke into our humble home on December 4th, 2001. I was 13 at the time, 3 short years ago.  I woke up to my mothers shrieking. I shuffled down the short hallway and pushed her door open slightly, he was raping her. She screamed for me to run away, to get out of the house and wake up our neighbor, Rose.. I didn't listen, of course, I never listened to anything she said. After he killed off my mom, he came for me. I fought as long as I could, but his forceful kicking was too much pain for me to handle, I passed out. I woke up to red and blue lights shining brightly outside my kitchen window. Every part of my body ached and throbbed.  I threw myself up off the ground and pushed my way through police officers to climb up the stairs. Many hands were reaching out for me, trying to pull me back. I forced my way through my mothers blood stained door.The image of my mothers room will be kept in my head for the remaining of my life, for I have lost the key to my most dreaded memories after they were locked away in my brain. Her chopped up body..the smeared blood on the walls..Her open eyes, searching for help before her body turned cold..

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