The grandfather clocks chime danced throughout the halls and entered my new bedroom with a graceful vibrant sound that announced that it was now eight o'clock at night. My stomach churned and growled at the stillness in the air seeming to agree with the chiming. I held onto my stomach as my stomach became riddled with cramps. I haven't been able to keep any food down for the past few days but my stomach still announced that it wanted food.
I sighed and climbed onto the hardwood floor and pressed my head against the wall. It has been hours since I've heard the music like sounds from my young daughter on the other side of this wall. I closed my eyes and pressed my pale hands onto the cold floor focusing on the coolness seep into my fingers, up my arms and down my body.
My eyes fluttered open, I looked over to the closet that held my clothing and an idea came to me. I climbed up off the floor and walked to the closet, I sifted through the articles of clothing and found the perfect one, it was a dress made with a thicker blue material. I pulled it off of its designated hanger and pressed it against my body while I swung around in gleeful circles. I smiled to myself as I wound the dress around my hand tightly so my fist was nice and snug inside. I grabbed an extra dress off of another hanger and hung it over my arm.
I approached the bathroom door and swung it open and approached the green sink. I looked at my smiling face in the mirror, the wound on my cheek was almost completely healed, it wouldn't leave a scar which made me happy. I took the dress that was hanging over my arm and used it to completely cover the mirror, my unfamiliar reflection now hiding from me like it does every time.
When I see myself I see an innocent and young ten year old with vibrant onyx coloured hair and eyes who would play on her swing set before her foster mother Grace would call her to dinner. She's a little girl who was growing too old her for childhood toys but secretly snuck them up to her room so she could be immersed in a fairy tale land that only she could control.
That girl died the night a bag was placed over her head and she was forced to give into what her fate would become.
Anger filled my body, rising into my throat and making it hard to swallow. I wanted to cry and scream but I couldn't, I'd rather be alone then get punished for making a sound. I bit down on my bottom lip holding my rage inside, I drew my bundled up fist back behind my head, clenched tight to the fabric that held my fist safely within its grasp and threw my fist at the covered mirror with all of the strength that I could muster. I heard and felt the glass shatter all at the same time, the noise echoed in the bathroom which made my stomach sink.
Did he hear that?
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