I will never ask for nothing that I won't give in return
You will never have to question the value of my words
Amalie
~Twenty-one years ago~
A draft seeps into the room from the cracked window pane, the November breeze bitter and unrelenting. The state of the room it filled was none too pleasant either. A bland brown carpeting, old, and stained. The walls had patches of water damage, a leak that had yet to be managed. The beige paint peeling off , falling onto the floor in broken flecks. It was a small room, a dirty sofa in the middle of it, connecting to it was and open planned kitchen, from which a putrid smell emanated from. Piles of unwashed plates and cups scattered around, the countertops thick with dust and mould from the food that had been splattered onto it. Attached to the room was three doors, two bedrooms and a bathroom. The bathroom was pretty standard for the size of the home, nothing especially interesting to note. Unless you counted the black mould in the corners of the shower, and the ripped blue shower curtain. The first was relatively well kept, most likely the nicest room in the house, a king sized bed and a set of matching bedside tables. The second bedroom, consisted of little more than a mattress on the floor, a thin mottled throw and a bin bag filled with clothes.
Lying on the old sofa was a woman, with long blue hair and pale skin. Wearing nothing more than an old pair of underwear, her skin covered in sweat. A blue tinge under her eyes, highlighting the shadows that sat there. Kneeling next to the sofa was a small child, with matching blue hair and icy blue eyes. Her small body wearing an unwashed oversized -shirt, hanging off her like a dress. Gripping onto the woman's arms and tugging them. "Mama, Mama, wake up," She cried, shaking her. Her little tummy rumbled slightly, "Mama, I'm hungry." She continued, but her attempt to wake her mother had no effect. Too ensnared in the slumbrous effects of the chemicals currently lacing her system. There was a hard-knocking on the door and the girl jumped slightly, eyes widening in fear. She turned away from her mother and ran into the smaller bedroom. Shutting the doors behind her, she kneeled down and covered her eyes. She knew who it was, it was the bad man. The bad man who always came to see mama, who hurt mama. She really didn't want to see the bad man, so she did as her mother always told her. Stay silent and out of sight Amalie.
And so she did
WC: 424
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