Rain hitting shingles, ruthless feet hitting wet concrete, tree branches hitting Windows.....hands hitting mama....
Gunshot.
Men getting a taste of power, mr.meat getting a taste of whiskey, me getting a taste of my tears.....mama getting a taste of her own blood.....
Gunshot.
Hands clutching mamas hair, guns held at sides, hands wet from tears and sweat........holding my only treasure.....
Gunshot.
I woke in a sweat from my nightmare not because of fear but because of the never ending sound of metal hitting metal outside my window, no doubt coming from the mysterious Purple house that unfortunately lost its vacancy. By whom I do not know.
But if I did, that never ending sound would sure as hell go away.
Every night this week I've woken up in a sweat terrified of the retched sound.
It's a mystery how the home owners sleep but even more a mystery as to why I haven't thrown a few punches their way. I've tried my best to ignore it for the past few weeks but tonight I'd had enough. I didn't bother putting a shirt on or shoes because I was determined that this wouldn't take long, I mean, whoever lives in a little purple house can't put up too much of a fight.
I tore off my now damp sheets from my sweat and rubbed my dark hands with pale palms on my forhead, helping to ease my headache. I stayed with my elbows on my knees and my hands wiping my face until I couldn't help it anymore. I snapped.
I didn't bother being silent as I stampeded down the stairs because whoever was asleep isn't anymore due to the racket going on outside.
The other neighbors haven't done anything about it probably because their lack of hearing and anti social personalities. My little brother Keelo has the same sleep issues as me but is almost always out of the house or as of tonight, black out drunk. So of course I'm left to deal with the problem.
It was as stormy as ever and pitch black out as I stomped across the road, every drop of rain that hit me made me cringe rememremembering my awful dream that was more of a memorie.
I couldn't stop myself from getting more and more furious every step I took, they just moved here and have already made my life a living hell. If I can't get my sleep, I'm in murder mode.
This past week has been nothing but murder mode.
When I reached their lawn I stormed strait to the sketchy tarp covering the horrendous noise and without thinking twice, tore it down. row after row of wind chimes were revealed just having at it.
Why does anyone need this many wind Chimes? Now I was even more annoyed. I erupted and started ripping each structure down and throwing them to the ground, breaking some of the glass ones but only bending the harder ones.The storm raged harder yet the wind chimes were loudest as I kept tearing each and every single one down.
I took a few breaths and out of the corner of my eye saw something move in the window. I jerked my head towards the movement and the curtain swayed back into place quickly.
Curiosity burning, I stormed up their stairs and banged my fist against the purple wood three times. Whoever this was needed to know what happens when somebody screws with my sleep.
I was about to knock agin but the door knob jiggled and the door slowly crept back, to my surprise revealing a girl with long brown hair and big green eyes that were red from tears that streamed down her freckled face. I almost felt bad.
Almost.
"Wh-wh-"
"I couldn't sleep." Was all I could think to say. Ugh.
Her thick brows furrowed and she met my eyes.
"I'm-I'm sorry....?" she sounded more annoyed then apologetic.
"How can you even sleep with all that noise? Don't that bother you?" I sneered.
"I um....well I can't sleep.."
"Yeah, you and me both."
She mumbled something else I couldn't hear so I lowered my head down to hear her better.
"Please don't hurt me!" She flinched.
She had big puffy lips like mine only hers were red and wet, her hair was a complete mess, matted and knotted. Even though she was a mess, she was still beautuful. In a strange way.
I rolled my eyes aannoyed that I would let something as little as how my torturer looked and began to rage on back to bed, not caring how wet I was or what damaged I had caused.
"And don't you even think about replacing those torture devices!" I yelled behind me. "Or ill break more then a couple of windchimes!" I could barely hear her angry gasps due to the storm.
