Smoke raising from the smoldering ashes of a place I once knew. The flames pushed me back and forth forward and backwards. The searing flesh's smell from inside came in waves that brushed up against my still, cold and beetles heart watched wit the contentment that it had not felt for sometime. I awoke in my bed with sweat dripping from my brow. My vale removed and the emp looking over me. She yelled she is awake. I was inside and alive. Was it all a dream? I knew not, and cared not at the moment. My father drunk and angry came in. I heard him scream about something the emp did and I would be punished for it. At least it was something I knew. I knew the truth in this pain. I knew that in the end it would only be me and my scars. I could feel the pain surge in and out in my body. I put my vale on hastily and seemed to lose sight of my little room. I jumped up out of my bed. The emp started to jump up and down on the bed. I yelled at her to stop and her mother came in ready to scold me for even thinking about speaking to her in that tone. I didn't mind her squawking voice that had the undertones of hatred placed into it. I heard her call to her husband. He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to the carriage. I was tossed as gruffly as possible into it. His rage was something I always got. We started down the road as we always did. He drove on to the establishment where I would be punished further. I went in with my head held high. He left me there and it started all over again. I remember the stairway. The dilapidated spiral stairway that had exits on all sides as you walked up. The floor creaked under the pressure of my body. The purple wallpaper with the florae on it was pealing and seemed almost as if it took beatings itself. The higher you went up the worse the place looked. My room here had the boards reveled, and little wallpaper left. I could feel this places memories. The atmosphere was as thick as lead, and just as heavy. The door closed and so what happened is left only in my memoire. The events were brutal, bordering on savage. When the time had passed I walked stumbling all the way down the stairway. He had left and I was to walk home alone. I would not mind it would give me time to think about the events. I had enough pain to get me through the day and maybe even the next. The blood the dribbled down my body seemed to some as a right of passage. I would not go home right away. I meandered my way threw the crowed streets and into the heart of the street rats layer, a place that was my home. The old buildings that were ready to fall down and the disease ridden streets screamed to me welcome back. I saw the people I called my family. Doc was an old man who had lost everything he owned in the name of Black Jack. He had one eye and a bit of a gimp. He used an old stick t move about with a little more freedom. He was called Doc because that had been his profession before he had killed a little girl by bleeding her too much. Alley was a girl who was strong in body but was not all there in the head. She was never a gentle giant, unless you won her respect. I had years ago. She was only 5'6ft, and doc shared he height. She wore rags and kept her hair in a stringy mess. Alley was my sister. The last was whom I believed t be my true Mom. Her name was Lizzy. She was short at 5'1ft. Her blue eyes pieced everyone. It was like she saw into your soul. I never knew what she saw but it was enough to make you at ease if you could ever be on the street. The usual place of being huddled around a trash ben that was set on fire seemed so familiar that I could almost see it when I left. I approached with my wounds and we would discuss our week so far.
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