she's sitting on the floor of her bedroom. leaning against the wall and looking out the window. there is no moon tonight; the stars are hidden behind a wall of gray. she closes her eyes and lets the breeze calm her.

somewhere in a small, comfortable little blue house on a hill, a little girl and her older brother are playing. they're racing their bikes and playing with toy cars. laughing and having fun. they're so young and the turmoils of the world have not begun to seep in yet. all they need is each other to have a little fun, his friends are her friends, hers are his. they share a room and a family. if she's bored, he's there with some idea, whether it be cards or rock climbing the side of the pond. even a walk through the woods. and even as they grow a little bit older, start into middle school, they get along. remarkable. they fight, like any siblings, but they get along.

when she opens her eyes again, it is dark in her room. she is reminded of where she is because of the screaming outside her bedroom door. carefully, she places a hand on her arm, the colors of a black and blue bruise are beginning to form. there is banging on her door, rage, and she is glad that she remembered to lock it. here, in her hell, all she wants is to have them back.