I've decided to type a story here that I've had floating around in my head:
Chapter One- The Night I Lost Her:
I don't remember much from that night, I was too young to recall. The only thing I can fully remember was the fire that had been sweeping through the house. My little sister, Naomi, was in her crib screaming. I remember the screams so clearly, it even breaks through peacefulness of my dreams. I can't remember ever sleeping throughout the night without a nightmare of her.
13 years have passed since then and still one word haunts me about that night. It was the word that the cop said after they pulled me from the fire. Arson. I can't shake the need for revenge on the sorry b*****d that slaughtered my family. I suppose that thought alone has kept me going all these years. Being 17 has it's advantages I suppose. It gives me more freedom from the hellhole I live in for sure. I was adopted by this family only a couple of months after mine was killed. Not long after the guys wife and other son were killed in a car accident. The man blamed me.
It's not all bad being hated by a parent, I mean, sure I get the s**t kicked out of me every now and then but I still enjoy the solitude that comes with it. More time for day dreaming. Though they usually turn into nightmares. What is left now that I'm alone? This broken soul of mine has only one purpose, but if I do get my revenge what then? What do I have that is worth living for?
End chapter one.
Morbid? Oh who cares honestly. If you comment on this pls be nice b/c I suck at writing and I know it. Anyway until next time.
Broken_Chaos_Angel Community Member 
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