Missing In Action: A Story Of A Concrete Angel, chapter 5
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Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the light
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
*Lilliana's P.O.V.*
Father picked me up by the front of my dress and he carried me into the kitchen. He threw me onto the counter, but he missed and the middle of my back hit the edge. I felt an upleasent pain shoot threw me. I dropped to the floor and let out a ear-piercing scream from the pain.
*Nobody's P.O.V.*
The family next door are sitting in the front room watching the television and conversing quietly. The father walked out to the woodstove and put more wood into it to keep the house warm for the night.
"The supper was good, Mother," the youngest son said to his mother who is acting as a seat for him.
"I'm glad you liked it, Bobby," she replied.
"Well, we all should turn in for the night. I restocked the stove so we should all be warm in our beds tonight," the father said, as he rubbed his hands together.
"Good idea, Frank," the mother replied. "Okay, kids. Off to bed now. Get a good rest tonight."
As the kids head to the back room where the bunks are, the parents hear an ear-piercing scream. They shrug it off and turn out the light and heard off to their warm bed.
*Lilliana's P.O.V.*
Father picked me up by the front of my dress and he carried me into the kitchen. He threw me onto the counter, but he missed and the middle of my back hit the edge. I felt an upleasent pain shoot threw me. I dropped to the floor and let out a ear percing scream from the pain.
*No One's P.O.V.*
Lilliana's father picked her up and threw her against the wall, all the while yelling profanity at her. He kept asking her if she had enough yet, but she couldn't answer, she couldn't even move.
Getting extreamly mad at her, he spat at her. Yelling at the top of his voice. He decided to grab a knife and torture her.
He sliced her wrists, legs, neck and back. She screamed out in agony. He started to hit her, yelling at her to shut up.
After about twenty minutes of this, he threw her against the stove again. She fell of the floor with an unpleasent crack coming from her right arm. He told her to get cleaned up and fix the house by the time he returned home.
He was just about to leave when something silver caught his eye. He stormed over to Lilliana.
"What's this?!" he yelled, picking her up by the necklace.
She tried to answer him but the necklace was digging into her neck. She could feel some of the blood from all of the beatings dripping off the tips of her fingers.
Not getting a response, he dropped Lilliana and stormed out of the house, slamming the door in the process.
Lilliana lay on the dirty floor, crying, wishing that she was with the Armstrongs. She looked at the open locket next to her. The picture was blood stained and slightly ripped. She cried harded as she knew how much it had meant to Adie.
The last thing she saw was the picture in the locket, as it was open by her head. She looked at the blood-stained picture, wishing she could just jump into it, spend the rest of her life with them. She cried herself into an uneasy, comforting sleep. She felt like she was floating on clouds. All of her pain was taken away from her.
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the light
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
*Lilliana's P.O.V.*
Father picked me up by the front of my dress and he carried me into the kitchen. He threw me onto the counter, but he missed and the middle of my back hit the edge. I felt an upleasent pain shoot threw me. I dropped to the floor and let out a ear-piercing scream from the pain.
*Nobody's P.O.V.*
The family next door are sitting in the front room watching the television and conversing quietly. The father walked out to the woodstove and put more wood into it to keep the house warm for the night.
"The supper was good, Mother," the youngest son said to his mother who is acting as a seat for him.
"I'm glad you liked it, Bobby," she replied.
"Well, we all should turn in for the night. I restocked the stove so we should all be warm in our beds tonight," the father said, as he rubbed his hands together.
"Good idea, Frank," the mother replied. "Okay, kids. Off to bed now. Get a good rest tonight."
As the kids head to the back room where the bunks are, the parents hear an ear-piercing scream. They shrug it off and turn out the light and heard off to their warm bed.
*Lilliana's P.O.V.*
Father picked me up by the front of my dress and he carried me into the kitchen. He threw me onto the counter, but he missed and the middle of my back hit the edge. I felt an upleasent pain shoot threw me. I dropped to the floor and let out a ear percing scream from the pain.
*No One's P.O.V.*
Lilliana's father picked her up and threw her against the wall, all the while yelling profanity at her. He kept asking her if she had enough yet, but she couldn't answer, she couldn't even move.
Getting extreamly mad at her, he spat at her. Yelling at the top of his voice. He decided to grab a knife and torture her.
He sliced her wrists, legs, neck and back. She screamed out in agony. He started to hit her, yelling at her to shut up.
After about twenty minutes of this, he threw her against the stove again. She fell of the floor with an unpleasent crack coming from her right arm. He told her to get cleaned up and fix the house by the time he returned home.
He was just about to leave when something silver caught his eye. He stormed over to Lilliana.
"What's this?!" he yelled, picking her up by the necklace.
She tried to answer him but the necklace was digging into her neck. She could feel some of the blood from all of the beatings dripping off the tips of her fingers.
Not getting a response, he dropped Lilliana and stormed out of the house, slamming the door in the process.
Lilliana lay on the dirty floor, crying, wishing that she was with the Armstrongs. She looked at the open locket next to her. The picture was blood stained and slightly ripped. She cried harded as she knew how much it had meant to Adie.
The last thing she saw was the picture in the locket, as it was open by her head. She looked at the blood-stained picture, wishing she could just jump into it, spend the rest of her life with them. She cried herself into an uneasy, comforting sleep. She felt like she was floating on clouds. All of her pain was taken away from her.
