Family/Lover

• Astare Braaksma, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

Love can be hate, in this story it is listen to the message. It's about the characters but also it tells you a lot about the writer. It is a part of me that no one has ever heard about, so to whoever is reading this it took courage and confidence to write such a depressing story. This is my story...

I'm about 4 years old, preschool is my first big step! I share a large house with my mum, sister, baby brother and four others. Easter was my favourite time of the year. Once the eggs were hidden throughout the house we all searched high and low, between books, on the floor and under chairs. After a good hour most were found. It was all fun and games.

Kids often tease one another, sometimes to the point were its not fun anymore. I ran outside into the shed after this one particular boy. He lived here most of the time, some days with his dad. I shall call him 'anonymous'. There we were standing face to face from each other. My last chocolate in his right hand (I was eager to get it back!).

In a time period of 5-10 minutes it started to go terribly wrong. This 4 year old, dumb enough to be bargained into anything excepted anonymous's deal. (that changed her life.) The chocolate was the only thing on her mind. She was like a toxic bomb threatening to kill the world. She was not letting anything get in her way!

She looked for a way out, no where to go. Anonymous had locked us in. Until what I had foolishly accepted was done to his satisfaction. The concrete floor cold against my hands. Shivers up my spine. The goose bumps begin to spread all the way down my body. I want to scream so bad but his hand clamps across my mouth before any noise could escape!
Afterwards was awkward. I never mentioned anything still to this day apart from now. Luckily we are far away (me and my close family) from him.

Your past shapes you as a person. I was stripped of my innocence, dignity, from then onwards has been a battle. It effected me greatly, still does. I have spent 13 years mucking around. Trying to become a better person, when I can't all I see is flash backs of everything. I'm dying slowly, suffocating but everyone around me is breathing. I'm depressed mentally, I'm getting so sick it's effecting me more than ever. This smiling is fading fast so is this beating heart.

Mum, dad, my precious sister and brother and other family.
I love you. I hope you never, ever read this or any of my writing. Catholic, buddist, athiest It doesn't matter.

Cause we all have to get through it.
It's hard to find people who can and will love you no matter what, family sticks together.

Sincerely Astare