Chapter 1: Devoid of Emotion
When I was a little boy, the house I grew up in burned down, my parents along with it. I was in the living room at the time watching television and my parents were in the other room smoking their cigarettes. I knew one of these days the house would catch fire because of their dependency on the drug. It was a matter of when it would happen. When the house caught fire, I had gone outside to fetch the mail. I had turned around to see hear the hard crack of wood as I saw the fire spread through the door I had left open. I could not help but watch the scene unfold in front of my eyes. It was only a matter of time before I could hear the sirens coming closer as I watched the house become engulfed in flames, unable to do anything but watch.
When the firefighters arrived at the scene, nothing on the inside could have been saved. The police arrived soon after and safely evacuated me to a better environment. They asked me questions I had no idea how to answer before calling my grandparents, who I never met. My grandparents seemed as though they would be nice, but it only had started after the death of my parents, the cruel world that was to be set for me.
I was assigned a new school nearer to where my grandparents lived. I had just finished the first grade at my other school. The newer school was filled with disgusting kids that did whatever was necessary to put others beneath them, even if they had to draw blood. There I met a girl who was at the very bottom who was always hurt by the other kids. Her kindness, always being taken advantage of before always being abused. One day she came to me asking to be friends. I did not want to be involved in her abuse as I already had experienced enough of it at home. I decided to say yes, but avoided any confrontation of the other kids when she was around so I would not get hurt.
Every day I came home, my drunken grandfather would abuse me. Some days there would be bruises and blood, other days there would be broken bones. My grandmother gave me casts that I could use for my broken bones as she was a nurse. She died from cancer but left me the things I need to help myself after my grandfathers abuse. My grandfather did not care whether I had a few broken bones or not during my abuse and some days would hit those spots repeatedly. The pain of being hit every day slowly faded until I could feel nothing from the excessive abuse.
The days I could not walk or write were the days the girl I befriended was beside me. The other kids would leave me physically alone, but everyday would try to mentally damage me, and when the girl would get in the way, they would beat her up until she could not move before mentally attacking me whether that be bringing up my dead parents or the only family member that cared for me my grandmother. It was a battle every day to keep my sanity in check. I had no idea how the girl could do this every day and get back up every time while I stayed down. Was I weak? How could she get back up in her condition? Isn't she tired of it all? It soon occurred to me that I had not even asked this girl her name, nor did I get the chance to.
The next day, the girl did not come to school. I did not think much of it until she did not come for a few months. I started asking the teachers, but they would always push the subject aside. I decided that day I would not go home and took her bus. I had never been to a girls house, but I decided to ask the bus driver to bring me. I forged a note with my grandfathers writing to bring me to the house. The bus driver stared at me silently and decided to bring me to show me the truth, believing that I was old enough to know anyway.
I soon arrived at the house and calmly walked over to the door and gave a few knocks on the door and listening to hear if anyone was home. There was no response. I decided to sit on the cement and wait for her parents to arrive home, but no one came. It was getting dark out and I decided to break in through the back of the house. I searched the backyard until I could find a big enough rock to break the window with. Getting inside, I cut my hands on the shattered glass of the window. I only noticed because I saw the blood dripping from the palms of my hands. I rummaged through my bloodied backpack, searching for some bandages I would bring everyday. I wrapped both my hands and headed upstairs. The house seemed to be abandoned for some reason and then I saw the girls door, which had a sign that said the girls name, "Ellie".
I approached the door, worried what awaited me on the other side. I slowly opened the door, and what I saw was a beautiful room filled with flowers and pink painted walls up until I opened the door fully and saw what I was afraid of seeing. In the corner of the room was a small noose and knocked-over chair. There were signs of a struggle in the corner of the room where the noose was almost as if she was trying to take it off. I assumed Ellie was dead, seeing as the house was abandoned. It then struck me, a surge of pain in my heart and flashes of memories playing like a VHS tape. I dropped onto the ground, my mind shattering. Did I love her? no, what is love? What are these feelings? My mind started pulling a blank, as my emotions became questions, and then devoid.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Lunar_AKA_Andrew
Lunar_AKA_Andrew This story is a work of fiction that can show how bad life can truly be to make others think twice about life. It can be terrible but those days become the past as you drift on towards a better future.
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