37Awesome reviews and sweet comments! I'm glad you guys like the story so far! I have what I want to write in my head I just have to get it down on paper and that is where the problem comes in. You see I'm very busy so their may be times when I do not update for long periods of time and I'm sorry to have to keep you waiting, but its either waiting and getting a piece of writing that was worked hard on or not waiting and getting a piece of crap! I hope you don't mind too much, but I truly adore how much you guys like my story! Please keep the reviews coming! They are my motivation.
CHAPTER FOUR: Seeing the truth
Lucas's POV
I picked up the drawing that she dropped in homeroom and I was shocked. I knew something was going on with her, but I didn't expect it to be that bad. The picture was of her. She had a huge smile on her face, but her body was chained up. In the background was a picture of her mother and father with angering expressions on their face. Below the picture it says, "I'm so happy and so free. Who wouldn't want to be me?" I couldn't believe it. Brooke had some serious problems, why did I have to be such a dick to her today? Why couldn't I just help her? I have no clue, but maybe that's why I'm here right now, standing in front of her house. Maybe I'm trying to help her now.
"Britney you little bitch! What the hell is your problem? Why don't you dress normally? Seriously I can't even believe you're my daughter! You're such an embarrassment to both your father and myself. Did you ever wonder why were on business trips all of the time? It is because were ashamed to be seen with you. You're a disgrace to the Davis name." slap "Now go up to your room and take off those awful clothes!"
Oh my god! No wonder Brooke is in such a dark place. Her parents are awful. I can't even believe I slept with her mother, and she treats Brooke this badly. Why did I ever hurt Brooke, why? With those thoughts left in my head I walked slowly and timidly up to the famous red door. I knocked twice and no one answered, so I knocked again. This time Nina, their maid, greeted me. She stepped aside and let me into the house.
When I took a stepped through the doorframe, a chill went up my spine. Something wasn't right about this house; it lost its life and was filled with sadness and a mix of suffering. When I walked in that house I could hear the screams for help. The walls were telling me their stories. I heard "Daddy stop! Your hurting me," and "Whore, slut, bitch, skank . . ." The words the screams, made me tremble, just thinking about the suffering Brooke had experienced. I had to see her; I had to make sure she was ok.
I went quietly up the stairs, so the Mr. and Mrs. Davis would not hear me, but it didn't matter because their loud voices could cover up a creak in the stairs or a scuff of a shoe on the hard wood floors. I started walking down the hall way when memories began flooding my brain. These walls were filled with laughter and tears of joy, wonderful memories. The walls spoke of different emotions when I walked past a black door, which I was assuming to be Brooke's. The walls were speaking quietly so I decided to open the tall, black door. It didn't creak; it didn't even make a sound. When I walked into the room, I felt as if someone had placed a ton of bricks on my shoulders. The sadness and despair was so thick in this room, I thought I was suffocating from all of the pain Brooke went through.
There were no lights on. The walls and ceiling were painted black. There were words and phrases painted on the walls. All of it was done in red and gold. I started reading the words next to the door. They read "save me from this house," "pain, suffering, sadness, anger," "you sadistic bitch," "your embarrassing," and many more phrases like that. I kept moving along the walls, reading the words that expressed who Brooke was, I came upon a red door. It was closed, but the light was seeping out of the cracks. I pushed my ear to the door and heard some faint whispering. What I heard was,
"God, you are the only one who understands me, you are the only one who knows about my double life. No one knows about he beatings and the bruises. No one knows about the scars and the broken bones. Did I do something so awful to deserve this fate? Why am I still here? Am I meant to go through this suffering? Is this some sort of punishment for what I did a while ago? That's it right, I tried to end this suffering; I tried to remove myself from this place. I was almost with you; you know that, I almost was. But then you didn't want me. You probably thought I was a slut too. I forgot, no bitches in heaven right? That's why you sent me back here isn't it. I'm being punished for trying to kill myself! You son of a bitch! So much for everyone being allowed in heaven."
After she was done talking I heard a slice, then a hard piece of metal being thrown to the ground. This isn't right, something is not right, was all I thought about when I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. When I walked inside the small bathroom, I was not ready to see what I saw.