14 Years Before
I crawled out of the over-turned car that had been torned down, windows bloodied and broken.
I coughed and crawled out, the pieces of glass on the road poking and tearing into my skin.
"Ah!" I groaned.
I looked behind at the car, two bodies; which were of my parents, covered in blood, shreds of glass in their foreheads, they were dead. They were not moving.
A voice, a drowsy voice reached my ears. "It's going to be alright, I will save you." A man, stumbling and falling with bloodshot eyes walked to me with his arms open.
"Sshh, I will take you to my house." He said and handed me a chocolate, I toke it.
"Come with me little one." I took his hand and walked to his car which had a bump on the front.
Did he hit my parents? Did he kill them?
"Where will you take me?" I asked, numb and cold.
"To my house, I shall keep you safe." He said and started driving. I looked at the car my parents were burried under. One last look.
We reached his house, the man with blood shot eyes. Everytime he looked at me, I felt frightened.
"Hey watcha doin kid?" He gently slapped a young boy's cheek. Probably my age.
"Mom said you've been drinking again." The boy jerked his hand off. I had never heard such conversations.
"Yeah what with thy tattoo?" He held the boy's arm out but he pushed the old man.
"It's my birthday gift!" The boy moved back.
There were some scars, burns over his hand and one was seen from the side of his neck.
"You want to be punished again eh?" He held the boy in his arms and the boy kept on resisting.
"Leave him alone!" A lady shouted and the man put the kid back. She had red eyes, which I had never seen and they looked beautiful.
"Well, I'll deal with ya'll fang asses later." He said putting the boy down and he rushed to hide behind the lady.
"I bought a guest ova." He pointed to me and I moved back.
"That's a little girl." The woman spoke in a british accent.
"Pretty ain't she." The man fell over the couch. As the boy said, he might be drinking.
"Son, take her to you're room. And don't do anything stupid." She said to her son, giving him a good soft look in the eye for about seven seconds and he walked towards me, wearing a hoodie.
"Come." The boy held my hand.
"Who is the man?" I asked.
"He is a bad man." The little boy said and we walked into his room.
"Sorry, my room's lights fail to work." He said and lighted up a little lamp, only a little visible.
"I can not see you properly." I complained, only his hair were visible.
"It is alright." He sat on the bed beside me. He had a slight british accent same like the woman who seemed to be his mother.
"I want to help you." He boy held my hand.
"From the bad man?" I asked innocently.
"Yes, from the bad man. Orelse he will harm you." He said.
"How?" I whispered.
"Do you have some home to go to? Or someone you know?" He asked.
"No, we came here for vacation. Who knew that my parents would be killed."
"What happened to them?" He asked.
"They were hit by a bad man, just like the one downstairs in your house." I looked at the boy with saddened eyes.
The boy stayed silent for a while.
"I know someone who could help me out, my grandmother." I said so he could talk.
"Do you have her cell number?" He asked.
"Yes. It's on my necklace." I took off my necklace and opened it, my parent's pictures and on the other side my grandmother's number.
"Here." I gave him the chit and he took a phone out from his drawer and dialed the number.
"Here. Tell her to come and take you." He handed me the cell phone and I placed it over my ear.
"Hello?" I heard my grandmother's voice.
"Can you come take me granna? My parents are dead." I spoke.
"O heavens! My girl, tell me where you are." She sobbed.
"Where am I?" I asked the boy.
He whispered the address and I told my Granna.
"She said she will be here in ten minutes." I said and I saw a smile forming on the boy's lip under the lamp light.
"Come with me." He whispered and toke my hand in his, sneaking out of the dark room.
"You're Granna is here." He slowly said.
"Okay." I replied.
"Don't let go of my hand." He said.
I nodded. "I won't let go."
We walked downstairs and saw the bad man talking to my grand mother who was on the door.
"Mister that seven year old girl belongs to me!" I heard my Granna shout.
"Now she belongs to my nine year old son and me. My son could get hungry you know!" He shouted and I looked towards the boy.
"I will take you to you're Grana." He promised me and I nodded.
"Father!" The boy said loudly.
"What the fuck are you doing!" The man shouted.
"Run, run to her, quickly." He whispered to me and let my hand go.
I ran downstairs as fast as I could passing the bad man and into my my Grana's arms.
"Let her go!" The boy shouted from upstairs.
"If you take a step forward, I will call the police!" Grana yelled and the man stopped.
The boy walked towards us.
"You asshole!" The boy's father slapped him.
"Lets go my baby." Grana kissed me.
"Are we going to leave him?" I asked as the door closed.
"We can do nothing to help him."
"But I made a promise to him." I pleaded.
"Lets go baby." She picked me up and the last yell I heard from the house was the old man's voice and a gun reloading.
"I am going to kill you today! I'm going to end the last of your bloody type left." The last I heard, Grana started the car and we drove away.
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