Road to Hell
Shauna
At eight years old I didn't know everything, but I did know that our family wasn't quite normal. At other girls houses we would have pizza and play dress-up and make cakes and spill things and run around screaming. But at our house, everything had to be quiet and healthy and safe, because of Chris. Not that it was his fault.
He'd been born special, was what mom and dad said.
"But aren't we special?" Sherry had dared to ask once, and we'd been sent to our room for talking back to our parents. Chris was two years older than us, and was supposed to be mom and dad's only child, because he was so much work. But then we twins came along and our parents were fond of telling us how much more difficult we made things.
One day we had a friend over when there was a babysitter, and we ended up breaking one of dad's trophies. It wasn't properly broken, just a bit dented but he hit the roof when he got home. He hit both of us on the back of our legs with a ruler, sharp stinging slaps that left red welts for weeks. I sobbed with every strike, but Sherry's face was a defiant mask as always. This always infuriated dad even more, and this time was no different.
"You two have to learn your place! You need to stop making things so hard for me and your mother. How would you feel if your mother and I divorced because of you? Or Chris got even more sick and had to go back to hospital? And it'd be all your fault!" He ranted at us, gripping us tightly by our shoulders.
I sobbed even louder, my mouth wide and gaping. But Sherry just tilted her chin, meeting dad's eye and not breaking contact. He snapped at that, dragging us to the hall closet where we had our Time Out. The door was locked and we sat in the cramped interior holding hands and occasionally nodding off. Normally we were only there between an hour or two, but this time we stayed until the morning.
At first we thought it was just as a punishment, but soon enough it was a regular punishment. And some nights when we were hovering between sleeping and wakening, I was sure I could hear Chris mocking us.
"You won't get out, you won't get out..."
"You won't get out, you won't get out, you're stuck here because of your sins, you won't get out."
I blinked, snapping out of my memories and staring at the woman in front of me. Her hair was matted and wild, looking like she lived in the forest or the gutter or somewhere dirty. She laughed again as Sherry crumpled next to me and I dove to catch her.
"Sher!" I grabbed her, terror pulsing through me as I saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head. The fog was suddenly rolling back in and when I looked back to the flower shop it was empty except for the thickening fog. "Sherry, please, you have to wake up. Don't leave me here alone, please wake up."
I shook her violently until her eyes started to open properly and focus on me. She had gone horrible pale, even her lips and gums were a new whiter shade. I brushed her hair off her face, wondering what was wrong with her. Nightmares had been troubling her for a while, and she'd been complaining of headaches. I worried about her so much, my little sister. We'd been so much that I needed to protect her. She acted so strong, but I knew inside she was as soft as a marshmallow.
"Come on, Sher. We have to see what else is here, this shop is giving me the creeps."
Sherry just nodded, looking too shaken to talk. I didn't know what was going on in her head, but it was making her shiver. Or maybe it was the chill from the fog as we walked down the street, passing a lot of food joints that were all boarded up and closed.
We'd only been walking a couple moments when I spotted a shadow of a church steeple in the distance. Churches were supposed to be sanctuaries, supposed to be safe, so we made our way there.
I prayed that nothing else weird was going to happen.
He'd been born special, was what mom and dad said.
"But aren't we special?" Sherry had dared to ask once, and we'd been sent to our room for talking back to our parents. Chris was two years older than us, and was supposed to be mom and dad's only child, because he was so much work. But then we twins came along and our parents were fond of telling us how much more difficult we made things.
One day we had a friend over when there was a babysitter, and we ended up breaking one of dad's trophies. It wasn't properly broken, just a bit dented but he hit the roof when he got home. He hit both of us on the back of our legs with a ruler, sharp stinging slaps that left red welts for weeks. I sobbed with every strike, but Sherry's face was a defiant mask as always. This always infuriated dad even more, and this time was no different.
"You two have to learn your place! You need to stop making things so hard for me and your mother. How would you feel if your mother and I divorced because of you? Or Chris got even more sick and had to go back to hospital? And it'd be all your fault!" He ranted at us, gripping us tightly by our shoulders.
I sobbed even louder, my mouth wide and gaping. But Sherry just tilted her chin, meeting dad's eye and not breaking contact. He snapped at that, dragging us to the hall closet where we had our Time Out. The door was locked and we sat in the cramped interior holding hands and occasionally nodding off. Normally we were only there between an hour or two, but this time we stayed until the morning.
At first we thought it was just as a punishment, but soon enough it was a regular punishment. And some nights when we were hovering between sleeping and wakening, I was sure I could hear Chris mocking us.
"You won't get out, you won't get out..."
"You won't get out, you won't get out, you're stuck here because of your sins, you won't get out."
I blinked, snapping out of my memories and staring at the woman in front of me. Her hair was matted and wild, looking like she lived in the forest or the gutter or somewhere dirty. She laughed again as Sherry crumpled next to me and I dove to catch her.
"Sher!" I grabbed her, terror pulsing through me as I saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head. The fog was suddenly rolling back in and when I looked back to the flower shop it was empty except for the thickening fog. "Sherry, please, you have to wake up. Don't leave me here alone, please wake up."
I shook her violently until her eyes started to open properly and focus on me. She had gone horrible pale, even her lips and gums were a new whiter shade. I brushed her hair off her face, wondering what was wrong with her. Nightmares had been troubling her for a while, and she'd been complaining of headaches. I worried about her so much, my little sister. We'd been so much that I needed to protect her. She acted so strong, but I knew inside she was as soft as a marshmallow.
"Come on, Sher. We have to see what else is here, this shop is giving me the creeps."
Sherry just nodded, looking too shaken to talk. I didn't know what was going on in her head, but it was making her shiver. Or maybe it was the chill from the fog as we walked down the street, passing a lot of food joints that were all boarded up and closed.
We'd only been walking a couple moments when I spotted a shadow of a church steeple in the distance. Churches were supposed to be sanctuaries, supposed to be safe, so we made our way there.
I prayed that nothing else weird was going to happen.