To Rosalie, A story of our tale. I'll love you forever.This book was created and published on StoryJumper™
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I used to sit from the kitchen table where I'd
seen it all. The yelling and screaming had my
stitching unravel at night, but I tried to be
strong for Timmy and Rosalie.
Timmy hadn't taken me off since his mother
died of what they call an overdose. Evey
bottle Timmy's father was driven to pick up, a
hand was raised along with it. I was there for
every slap, punch and foul word directed at
Timmy and Rosalie, shielding them after
Mommy had gone.

















The Duncans were a happy family, back in the
day. It wasn't until "Mommy" developed a
fondness for that white powder and tall glass
bottles that everything changed. Even I could
see that that combination effected her. After
all, that's when the yelling began.




















One day Timmy, Rosalie, and Daddy
watched "Mommy's" box being
lowered into the ground and covered
with dirt. The bewildering silence
said more than the lack of tears ever
could.

Watching Timmy hold baby Rosalie most nights
in his arms would bring me to tears if I could
cry. But I can't. So I tighten my grip, wishing it
all to end.


















You were the worstmistake of my life.
















Ultimately, the physical and mental abuse
became too much. So, Timmy ran. He ran and
ran until his problems and sister were far behind
him.


I couldn't help but wonder about
Rosalie, how she was doing..staying
optimistic that maybe "Daddy"
wouldn't hit her. But I guess it goes
without saying that the chances were
slim. I'm sure Timmy wondered the
same, but I knew that he couldn't
leave his sister for forever.

I remember the miles of green and the brush
that would become our home at night.
Timmy walked for days, following the rivers
until we came across a small town by the
name of Kingsville.











He stood on the street by the bus stop,
watching the happy people in the bright
colored coffee shops enjoying their "usuals".
Snacking on their over priced muffins and
scones, I could practically hear Timmy's
stomach growl in envy. I wondered if he would
get on, perhaps leaving all chances of rescuing
Rosalie.

Later
dismissing
the idea to
take the bus,
Timmy rested
on the Town's
church
steps,where a
red house in
the distance
caught
Timmy's
gaze. It was
simply
labeled
Orphanage.


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- Excessive Violence
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