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How long? How long was this hell going to continue? Opal slammed her hand against the garage door and pushed. It refused to budge. "Shut up in there!" her slaver/mother demanded. Immediately Opal scurried back to her moldy mattress and curled into a ball. She was awaiting her next beating or command. Generally she was treated kindly, but not since her slavers (mother and father) had taken up drinking again. Her older brother and sister were treated like royalty. She was all of their slave. "Opal I'm hungry," her sister demanded. "Get me food." Opal rushed to do as she was told. She fixed her sister a peanut butter and banana sandwich, her sister's favorite food. "This is wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!" the spoiled eighteen year-old cried. She beat Opal with the nearest thing, a heavy Webster's dictionary. Opal limped back to her garage and prayed for death.
To Be Continued...
Yours truely,
KK
 pandora2468 · Fri Jun 25, 2010 @ 03:28am · 0 Comments |
