• Chapter 2
    Beating
    I hesitantly stepped through the doorway of my house. It was two stories, painted gray and completely falling apart. There were holes in the roof, windows boarded up, and one of the rooms doors hung off its hinges. Glancing around the messy and totally disgusting living room, I walked farther into the house.
    “CHARLOTTE ABIGAIL EVERGREEN!!!!!” I heard the angry voice of my mother screech.
    “Oh God…” I muttered as I spun around, only to come face to face with her and the devil himself, my father.
    My dad has black hair and eyes, and olive skin. My mom has short, bright red hair and blue-ish gray eyes. Scarlet got her looks from Mom, and I got my looks from dad.
    This is what I look like. I have long, black hair with olive skin. But I didn’t have black eyes, or dark eyes for that matter. My eyes were blue-ish gray, just like my moms.
    “Where is your sister!?” My father demanded.
    “She-she got called to work…” My voice quivered and trailed off.
    “Well….” He exhaled angrily through his clenched teeth. “I guess you’ll have to suffer alone.”
    I closed my eyes tightly, knowing what was coming next.
    And sure enough, my dad hit me. And so did my mom. Over, and over, and over….
    By this time in life, I was used to it. At first, getting beat is totally horrible. I mean, it still is. But soon you get used to the pain, adapt to it. But, that did not mean that I still didn’t want to beat the crap out of them myself.
    The beating went on for hours. After they were satisfied, they let me go up to my room. And I ran there, bleeding and numbed with pain. And soon after that, when I was up in my room, the door locked, I started to cry.
    I stared out the window and at what was now the dark blue sky. I guessed there must be a million stars there, too, but all the city lights made them impossible to see. Breaking my gaze, I looked down at an old picture of my family in a smashed glass frame. I picked it up with a shaking hand.
    Then I stared at it. I stared, and I stared. Stared when I heard my sister get home. Stared when I heard her getting beat. Stared when I heard her crying in her room next door. Just kept staring.
    In the photo, there was a picture of me, Scarlet, our brother David and our parents. Back then, I was thirteen, Scarlet fourteen and David fourteen. You see, David is Scarlet’s twin. Well, was. And in case you’re wondering, David is not with us anymore.
    Because the same day this beautiful picture was taken, my parents came home from a party drunk. And not only that, but they killed David. And nobody had ever even known except for Scarlet and I.
    And ever since that night, our parents have been abusive alcoholics. And ever since that night, I have thought, ‘How could such a beautiful, happy, joyful and just plain perfect family completely turn around in the blink of an eye?’
    And each time I never got an answer.