Another beatdown.

" TALINA! Where is our dinner? I told you over an hour ago to start cooking for me and your father. Geez. Do I have to repeat it every 10 seconds? Steak, beans, and mashed potato's. It's not that complicated! Get cooking! "

" Y-yes mother. It will be ready soon, I-I promise. " I said, trying to get my mother off my back.
That was just one of the many orders I got from her and my father that day.
"Talina, clean the bathroom! Talina, cut the grass! Talina, do the laundry! Talina, wipe the windows! Talina, walk to the store and get our groceries! Talina, Talina, Talina!"

The commands kept on coming, but I had to deal with it. If I chose to ignore their orders, or didn't meet their expectations when I did something, the consequences were very painful. For example, there was one time when my father asked me to make breakfest for him. He asked for coffee and toast, which is what he got. Except, the toast was just a little too burnt, so I offered to make him another piece but instead, he dragged me down the dark, cold, stairwell to the basement, tied me to a chair and tortured me for over an hour, with the help of my mother, of course.

Mistakes were unacceptable. Everything had to be done perfectly for them, or else I would pay the painful price.

"TALINA! Where is our food?! Hurry up!"

"C-c-coming, mother."

I brought the perfectly prepared food out to the kitchen and served it to Rick and Rosalia. I can't even refer to them as my parents anymore, because I don't think they meet MY expectations of good parents. Besides, they are not even my real parents. My real parents would never treat me this way. I am adopted, but I don't know why the Adoption Agency would ever let me go home with these cruel people! They hurt me all the time and it causes horrible pains. It's a pain that no one should ever have to feel, and they don't even take care of me, so it goes on for ever. Every day, the pains get worse, and I am only 12, I am too young to do anything about it. Sure, I could try to runaway, but If for some reason something went wrong, or they found me, the torturing would become--well, killing. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I can tell you right now, it won't be any better than today was. All I could do was go up to my freezing cold room, lay in my wooden bed, pray to God, and hope that he would somehow make tomorrow a little better for me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------The Next morning----------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke to a letter that lay on my side-table. It was from Rick and Rosalia.

Talina,

Your father and I had to go to the bank to discuss our mortage and other bills, and then we are going to the bar to see your uncle's band play. We will be home later, but while we're gone, I EXPECT that every room gets perfectly cleaned, the grass gets cut, all of the laundry is done, every single dish and piece of cutlery is cleaned, every bed is made, and the house looks clean and brand new. If for some reason, when I come home, something is not how I imagined it to be, you know what will happen. We have locked the doors from the outside, so don't even think about trying anything.

Get to it!

Well, this should be a smashing day! Literally..

With no time to waste, I headed downstairs to begin with the living room. I started washing and wiping the windows, when I noticed that one of them had not been locked. But, how do I open it? I looked around the room, searching for ideas. That's when it hit me. I opened the door to the storage room and pulled out Rick's old baseball bat! I had never played baseball before, or any sport for that matter, but I didn't care if I had proper form or technique while I hit it. I swung it at the window, about 15 times before it started cracking. I kept on hitting it and before I knew it there was an empty spot in the window small enough for me to fit through and jump out.

The hard part was done. Now, where do I go ? I had never met my neighbours, I had no idea where the police station was-- actually, I had no idea where anything was, except the grocery store. So, I ran there, as fast as I could.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE, HELP ME!" I cried.

"Woah, what's wrong little one?" I looked up at the tall, mysterious man that was speaking.

"I just ran away from my house, because my parents--well, my adoptive parents, they-they torture me. But, they are gone for the day so I snuck out and-and I didn't know where else t-to go, because they never let me go anywhere but here." I said, as I gasped for breath.

"Geez, that's rough! I will help you, though. What's your name?" He bent over.

"Talina, T-Talina Stone."

"Stone, eh? Your parents are Rick and Rosalia?" He asked.

"They are NOT my p-parents! They just adopted me."

Was this man going to help me or just keep asking me questions! I headed into the store, looking for anyone who could help get me away from these people.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Hey, I can help you. I know the Stone couple. Not the best people eh? Come with me, I'll take you to the hospital first. You look pretty beaten up!" He said as we walked towards his car.

We seemed to be in his car for about 20 minutes before we pulled up to some yucky, smelly, dirty, wooden building, that looked over 30 years old.

"Is this the hospital?" I asked, with a disgusted look on my face.

He laughed.

"You actually thought I would take you to the hospital? Yeah right, kid."

He got out of the car, opened my door, squeezed my arm and dragged me out.

"Let's go! Move it!"

He dragged me into the building, which was full of dirty looking motorcycle riders, gangsters, thugs, and the worst of all-- Rick and Rosalia.

"Hey, Rick! Found your kid at the grocery store. She said she jumped out the window and tried to run away. She asked me for help!" He laughed.

Rick stormed over to me, squeezed my arm and yelled for Rosalia.

"What the hell were you thinking, kid. Your mom and I have explained the consequences of this before, did you not listen?" He yelled.

I tried to push him away from me, but Rosalia pulled me away and held my arms tight behind my back, as I struggled to release myself.

"You, and-and Rosalia are NOT my mom and dad! I hate you! I hate both of you! I wish you were dead!" I yelled, fighting back tears.

"That's it. Rosa, go inside and get it."

Get what? I wondered.

Rosalia handed me to rick and he threw me over his shoulder and carried me to the truck.

He got a brown bag from the backseat and put it over my head.

I heard footsteps, probably Rosalia's.

Rick sat me down in a chair, with the bag still over my head, and tied me to it.

"Here we go!" I thought to myself. "Another beat-down."

The weird thing about this though, was it was the first time I wasn't allowed to see what was ---

I gasped, struggling to breathe. I had been shot.

I could feel cold shivers in my body as blood flowed out through my heart.

I felt a cold blow to my head as I fell off the chair and hit the ground, holding on for dear life.

"Please, God. Please, help me! If I die, Rick and Rosalia will just do this to the next kid they adopt. Please, God, Help me!" I thought to myself, as I slowly followed the light, and stopped breathing.