Chapter I

Stupid. I wish I could die.

            I wish they’d all die.

            I hate my life. Stupid family, stupid brother and most of all stupid me. Why? Why could I have been born this pretty?  I remember my conversation with my mother earlier.

           “Cecile,” She says.  “No more parties for you.”

          “But mom!” I protest.

          “Not another damn word.” She says.

            I march up to my room then,“Fine!” I shout at her. “I don’t give a damn to you too.” I say.

           I slam the door to my room with a loud bang. My room is filled with candles and glasses full of my favorite scents. On the corkboard at the left side of my bed is the pictures of me and my ‘friends’.What am I going to do now?I throw things around and scream at the top of my lungs. I hear a loud knocking demanding me to open the door.”Cecile?” my little brother, Max says.

            “Are you ok?” He asks. I open my door and let him in. He takes in the broken glass shattered on the floor. “What happened here?”

            Before I can answer he looks at me and says, “Why did you do this?” He  points to leg, which is bleeding from the glass. “Why don’t you ever learn?  Why do you keep doing this?” Max asks pointedly.

            “Max! Just lay off okay?” I say getting angrier. “Why would you care?” I ask. “You’re just seven.”

            He starts crying. “Because! I WANT TO HELP YOU!!! HOW CAN I IF  YOU ACT LIKE THIS?!” He screams at me.

            “GET OUT OF MY ROOM, MAX! I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” I shove him, not bothering his whimpering as his feet scrape the glass. “And don’t come back.” I say as I slam the door on his face.

            I sit down on the floor and cry my eyes out. I feel so guilty. Max was my only brother who actually cared for me and I went on and hurt him. And my mom, she only cared about my safety right? I feel a chill travel down my spine as I think of her.

            I can’t explain but I just don’t like my mother. There’s something about her that just makes me want to hate her. It’s as if we’re not related. She’s not like other parents, where you have that feeling of love.

            As though she hears my thoughts, my mother bursts in my room. “Cecile! How dare you do that to your brother?” She demands. “Do you know that he is now in the hospital, getting the glasses out from his feet.”

            I stare at her. “Not right now, Linda. Just, not right now.”  I say calmly. I have lost every ounce of respect that I had for her.

            She looks at me and I can see her ears redden with her anger. “How da—” She seems at a loss for words. She walks over to me and slaps me hard. I could hear the snap of my neck as it was wrenched from its original position.

            “STOP IT!!” I shriek. “STOP IT!!!” I yell at her as she watches me stiffly. I leap towards her, since she backed away from me, and I slap her the same way she slapped me. Hard and cold.

            “You are not to leave your room.” She threatens. “I forbid you. When I get word that you snuck out today, I will personally see to it, you are sent to an orphanage” She says coldly, fighting the tears I can see swimming in her eyes.

            “I would like that.” I mutter. “Away from you, it would be the best thing ever.” I whisper.

            She goes and slams the door so hard that everything shakes in my room.

            I  am so mad right now! I can feel my tears stinging my eyes as it runs down my face. As the hours go by, I get hungry. I hear the car door and Max’s sniffles as I watch from my bedroom window. They drive away as I watch and I fall asleep, only rememering a little heat in my left hand.

            I hear them come back but I pay them no mind. I hear my door creak open and a blast of hot air comes in. I keep still until someone sighs and closes the door. I fall asleep again, still feeling the sensation of the hot wind.

           

“CECILE!!!!” I hear my mother frantically screaming in a muffled voice. I wake up and smell something disturbing. I look around and see where the smell was coming from.

            There was a fire.

            In my room.

            “Ahhh!!!”  I scream loud and shrill. I get away from my bed as fast as possible and try to open the door. It’s burning hot and I can’t feel my hands.

            “Help me!” I scream. No one hears my helpless plea and I decide to kick the door down. The whole house is on fire. I can’t seem to find my family so I know they’re safe. I check their rooms to make sure. I run thorugh each of the rooms, doing quick glances scream, trying to find my way out.

            When I see no one, I hear a small whimper. “Max!” I enter his room, the one at the end of the hallway and find him there, trapped under a giant piece of wood. “What happened?” I ask as I try to lift it. It’s so heavy.

            He whimpers loudly, “The bed exploded,” He said. “Mommy didn’t want to come back for me.”

            The heaviness of the wood disappears as I am fueled with anger for what my mother did. I lift it high enough for him to squirm but it isn’t good enough. The adrenaline is running through my veins and I raise it as high as I could. He is free.

            He turns to smile at me when he sees something behind me. “Cecile look out!” I turn and see what he is talking about.

            I shouldn’t have because a huge debris falls on my face, I scream loud that I use all my oxygen. I end up chocking for air. I feel faint and fall down  as Max runs to me. “Cecile, does it hurt?” He asks tentatively.

            “Of course!” I hiss. I soften my voice. “Let’s just get out of here.” I get up and I still feel dizzy from the hit and can’t help swaying back and forth.  I still manage but Max had to guide me out of the room.

            We run as fast as we can, me dizzy and him limping, and find that the stairs have been burned off, leaving the three topmost steps. “Cecile,” Max says, squeezing my arm “We have to jump. It’s not that big a drop and we’ve done this so many times.”

            I stare at him, how could a seven-year-old say something that smart? “OK?” I say. “You go first. Catch me ok?” I say incoherently. I know he can’t carry my weight but I feel that I should give him a chance to escape.

“No Cecile,” He says, “How can I be sure you’d jump after I do?”

“Here’s what we’ll do, we jump together, alright?”

He nods. “On the count of three.”

He begins counting. “One, two,” He grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.

“THREE!”  We jump, but something happens.

Max lets go.

The End

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