My first story that I've decided to Put on PimD... The light pierced Riddle's eyes as she opened them. Groggily and with caution she lifted her head to look around her. Confusion hit her like a punch in the gut, and pain was shooting through her head. Her father and one of his friends stood a little away from her, paying no attention and not realizing that she was awake. He was holding a beer bottle to his lips and chugging it down like there was no tomorrow. Riddle could see empty bottles scattered across the large room. Her lip curled with distaste as she watched him, she had never approved of his frequent drinking and the abuse that came with it. She looked to her side, and stared. Riddle's two brothers and her twin sister lay sleeping on three sleeping bags. She lay on her own sleeping bag, and all four of them lay in a straight line. Just then, her father dropped the bottle, and a thud sounded as it hit the carpeted floor. Riddle quickly laid her head back down and closed her eyes, faking unconsciousness. She fought to control her breathing, taking deep breathes and releasing them slowly. She heard his friend chuckle and she clenched her teeth as Tom, his friend, got closer to her. He was leaning over her, and she could feel his uncomfortably hot breath on her face. He stank of alcohol. She slitted her eyes as soon as Tom's disgusting breath vanished, and looked at her father. He was clearly drunk, but what her and her siblings were doing here, she was utterly bewildered by. Last she remembered was arriving home from school after hanging out with a couple of friends at the movies. And that was around, what? 6:00? Riddle's eyes darted to the small alarm clock she knew sat atop the filing cabinet across the room. It was 7:36 pm. And her head was throbbing. She didn't dare move to touch her head, but she knew she must have hit it on something. Hard, too. Her eyes snapped back to her father and Tom as they advanced on her, so suddenly. "Look who's awake" Her father slurred,and Tom grabbed her, forcing her to her feet. She stumbled away from them, to the far side of the room. Her father then pulled the very end of her world out of his jean's pocket. His small black shotgun. She heard a whimper, and her eyes shot to her little brother, Daniel. He was barely eight and at the moment was staring at my father with wide, horrified eyes. the gun was aimed at his chest. Riddle gaped, mortified. And then her father pulled the trigger. And again. And again. She watched as he shot her two brothers and her twin sister. Tears filled Riddle's eyes as she looked at her father, at the twisted smile on his face and the dullness that was his eyes. She took one last look at her brothers and sister, and dashed toward the door. She fled down the hallway and through the house, searching frantically for her mother. She didn't dare call out, in fear that her father would hear and come after her. She yanked open the door to the Laundry room, and gasped for breath as she finally stumbled upon her mother. "He's killed them!" she sobbed. "He's coming for me!" Riddle wanted her to stop him, to protect her and wrap her arms around her and carry her to safety. But the only response she got from her mother were sad eyes. She continued putting laundry into the dryer. "Mom!" she shouted. "Mom!" She looked at Riddle, her dead eyes were unclear. She didn't care. She wasn't going to help her own daughter. She knew what he had done, and she knew he would do it before he did it. Thoughts rushed through her head, and she stepped out of the room, horrified. Riddle was alone. Utterly alone. I shall 'update' it tomorrow
UpdateHoooray Riddle stumbled away, making her way towards the front door. She had to go, to leave and never look back. That was the only way she would be able to make it past this pain her mother and father had caused her. She had been running for what felt like forever now, and she slowed to a quick walk. She was behind an unfamiliar building, with a large, thick build, and crooked windows. Or was the whole thing crooked? She gazed at it a moment more. Yes, it did seem to be tilted to the side, like a slightly wilted flower. It reminded her strangely, of herself. Well, it looked abandoned to Riddle. She approached it, peeking into one of the small, dirtied windows. It was dark, but she could make out a few shadows. Furniture? Probably. She walked around it, and on the other side she discovered a small, wooden door. She placed a hand on the bronze doorknob and rattled it roughly. The door came loose, and swung open. She stood in the doorway for a while, contemplating whether or not to enter. She did need a place to stay, and this seemed promising enough. She shrugged lightly and stepped inside. Opinions?
Small update The door didn't slam behind Riddle as she had expected, and no creepy music started playing. A small amount of light shone in from the windows, so Riddle felt it safe to close the door. She didn't want anyone to know she was here. She wandered around, looking here and there. She decided she could rest in the chair with the least amount of holes and mold on it. She climbed hesitantly onto it, and settled down for the night.