Daily life of a 'Trap' 8

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A water droplet the back of my neck causing me to shiver. The humidity feels dense and the grey sky warns of rain.

“Why, Why god!? Why does it have to rain today of all days?” I whine to whoever is listening. “It was beautifully clear this morning. Thank god I always bring my umbrella.” I search in my bag for my umbrella. It wasn’t there. I sighed realizing that I forgot it, “Unlucky me.”

I was about halfway to the hospital. Amanda probably already has herself signed in and doing her session with the therapist. Fortunately for us, dad’s new job comes with benefits along with better pay.

I went with Amanda because I didn’t like her going alone. Of course, she didn’t want me to come, so I’m guessing that’s why she left me. Hoping that I would go home and stay. She may be independent, but I still worry about her. I guess big brothers are allowed to worry.

The rain began, and I take shelter under the public library. Rain only reminds me of the day I lost my mother along with my bubbly, happy little sister.

It was two years ago, and the world seemed so much happier even if we were poor. Mom and dad were in love. The type of love that you watch movies and TV shows. It was special and infinite.

Amanda and I were bantering like how siblings are. We loved each other, that was evident, but we love to prank each other and watch anime together. We were happy.

Until the rain came, and we learned that there was a carjacking, killing mom and kidnapping Amanda.

Twenty-four hours later, the murder was arrested, and we had Amanda back. Well, what was left of her. She was tortured in the most brutal way possible.

Her fingers and toes were broken along with her finger and toenails ripped out. She was burned in multiple areas and beaten everywhere. That just accounts for the physical trauma. I don’t even know what happened that broke her spirit, but I can see what he did to her when she has a night terror and the wistful look on her face when she is zoned out.

She couldn’t even be in the same room as a man for a year. She still can’t deal with men because of her PTSD. Dad suffers that more than me. She has an emotional block that causes her to be mute. According to her therapist, she is repressing memories along with the ability to speak. If that makes any sense.

That isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that the guy got off with a slap on the wrist. How does a guy, who broke a few federal laws, get off with a slap on the wrist? It’s bullshit.

After two years of all the bullshit, things have gotten better. They’ve reopened the trial to be a special trial. Since the judge apparently was corrupt and we were the only family the monster tortured.

We also received a settlement for our troubles. Which is another reason why we moved? Life seems to be getting better for everyone.

The rain stops, and the sky clears to show a rainbow. I continue my journey feeling hopeful for the future.



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This story is 562 words long.