Memory of Rochelle's
(She was about 14 at the time)
It was dark, probably 2 in the morning by now. It was quiet, the house had fallen silent and Rochelle knew what that meant.
She sat on her bed, staring at the wall. Why was it like this? Why had it come to this?
Quietly she got up, her bare feet touching the cold floor of her bedroom. Carefully she put her sweatshirt on.
She knew why this had happened, she was a pawn, a tool, nothing. She didn't matter. She was right in the middle of this, but no thought was even given about how it would affect her.
She hoped he died. It wasn't a farfetched wish, he got drunk every night...
She... She could kill him... It would fix everything, and she hated him enough...
But... She couldn't... She could steal, she could manipulate, but she couldn't kill someone... Even him.
...At least for now... She had a few more years, she knew this imprisonment would last that long. Maybe she could bring herself to kill him.
. . .
Slowly Rochelle opened her door. As usual, the house smelled of nothing, but smoke and alcohol. She stepped out of her bedroom and silently walked down the hall. Tip toeing down a few stairs to the the main room of the mansion. It was dark, she could see light from the tv and he was unconscious on the couch. Even with the tv light there was quite a bit she couldn't see, but still, she knew they were there... All of the empty bottles on the floor.
She quietly cleared a path, walking silently to the other room. She let out a deep, irritated sigh when she saw the shelves, multiple were empty... How much could he even drink in a night??
She stepped over to a shelf and pulled two bottles down. He wouldn't miss them, he was too drunk to even know...
Silently she returned to her room, closing the door behind her.
She sighed and sat on her bed. Why was she trapped here? Why did she have so little control? She was so used to being completely free that this felt completely suffocating... And she had no choice... Why had this nightmare come over her??
...why did she have to exist in the first place...?
...
She opened the bottle and slowly hung her head.
She just wanted to go home...
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