Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chipped. Paint. Chipped. Paint.
The white walls seemed endless, with shriveled up paint falling from the walls. Not so different from my house. Wait. Where am I?
"She looks mental."
The voice snapped me out of my thoughts, dropping my finger, tracing the cracks in the wall, onto my lap. The sound of skin made me jump.
Michael slapped Owen's chest with the back of hand with a tsk! He sent Owen a glare and looked back at me. I met his eyes and immediately averted my gaze. I didn't know where I was or what to do but sit in a corner. After Owen assured me the mean lady was gone, I felt relieved. She was mean. And scary.
When I woke up this morning, I heard screaming. I remember the sound of the door being slammed shut and hearing hushed voices in the other room. I didn't know what was happening, but before I knew it, I walked over to where there was an opening for me to peep through. I saw Owen and a lady in the kitchen talking. I didn't want to interrupt so I kept quiet.
Until I heard the coast was clear, I went in to see Owen to make sure he was okay. No one likes being screamed at. Not when I think they don't deserve it.
Now I'm here. I couldn't process what was happening at the time, but for sure I know I'm not in my house. The events before didn't come back to me until - just right now.
Curse you, stupid 5 year old brain! I mentally scowled.
"Dude! She's probably just scared or something. I mean she is in your house." He shrugged, causing Owen to slap him in return.
That's not very nice. Do they hit for fun? What happens when one of them starts crying? After yesterday, I don't think they're much huggers. I thought, tilting my head to the side.
Owen cleared his throat, crossing both his arms, "What do we do now? She's awake. She's alive. Just like you asked." Owen grunted.
