The Lost Child
I sat there alone in that damp cement walled room, which was my basement. The floors were squishy with the feel of moist soil, I could not help but cry. Thinking of what got me into that position, I had gone against Father's wishes. I left the house going outside, in the rain to add, I knew how Father hated me going outside, but I just had to know. Mother left leftovers for me when Father had gone out or wasn't looking. She had gotten caught twice and then Father locked the basement when he woke up every morning.
I had once got out of my prison cell to the outside and looked at the shiny things in the sky. My head burned with those memories I once had. It was all my fault and my parents did this because I had been bad.
Right? I had creeped up the old stairs turning the knob finding out it was unlocked. I slowly creeked open the splintered door and looked, no one. With out thinking I ran, ran until my legs could not bear it anymore.
I could still see my house, it was so small from there I felt that I could just pick it up and squish it. I saw Father run out screaming, his face red and unpleasant. I didn't know why, but i felt the urge to run away.
I felt scared as I ran watching Father run after me, then he looked somewhat...... scared, like me. I turned and saw a big moving, shiny thing. It looked strange and had wheels like on my toys, but they weren't as big. My head started hurting and I couldn't see, Father was screaming in a sad tone. Like when Mother did when Father locked me in the cold basment. My body numb, I was just a thought, I still am.
I try and try to talk to Mother and Father now, but they don't seem to hear me. I try to touch them they don't seem to see or feel me, and they always say my name in a sad tone.They don't seem to want to go outside anymore and all of my stuff is gone. I finally stopped on a fateful day a year later. Because of those very words, Father said them, I wasn't ready for them.....
"Please stop haunting me. You're dead now, leave me alone. Please."
Dead. I finaly understood why they stopped knowing me. Mother had told me what 'dead' was that one time they had to leave for Granma's funeral. I cryed, I COULD cry, now that no one could hear my tears. My wails lasted until I heard the one thing that I had never heard in my whole life. The words I could and would never imagine to come out of Fathers mouth,
"Im so sorry, Elizibeth. I love you..."
I then smiled tears drying, kissed Fathers cheek hugging him, though he probably couldn't feel it, and lifted away. heart
