Lori sat on the old swings at the park. She listened to the annoying sound of the squeaking chains and the snow fell. She lived in Virginia so she was used to this but, today was the worst day. Not only because she hated snow. Because it was the day her sister died. Two years ago, her five year old sister got a horrible disease, and died on this day. Lori remembered her sisters love for snow, her sisters beautiful long blonde hair, her big cute freckles, and her silly smile with her one missing tooth in the front. This wasn’t the first time mama had lost a baby. Lori’s baby brother died a few weeks before his due date. Her father had hurt her mother and pushed her down the stairs. Lori believed she was cursed. She had made up a name for her baby brother: Sammy. He would have their mothers brown hair, their fathers blue eyes, and their mothers freckles. Snowfall was the time of year she hated. It hurt when she breathed in, her red nose freezing in the cold. She heard her mamas voice calling for dinner. Lori grabbed her backpack that she carried everywhere. She looked around. She knew mama would get angry if she were late to dinner so she hurried quickly across the street. She heard her father yelling. He had come to visit to “help” mama but all he did was hurt her the more he saw her. Lori slowly walked in. Lori looked around. Her father gave a fake smile the minute she stepped her foot inside. For most kids at the age of fourteen, it was nice to be cozy at home on a snowy day. No. The snow was a enemy that must be destroyed. When it snowed, father came to “help”. No. He came to hold her hostage in her own house. He came to hit mama. Most of all, he came to terrorize them. Lori grabbed a bowl of soup quickly from the kitchen. She hurried up the stairs to her room. Her room was her escape, where she could lock herself in, leave herself in the dark to breath. Sometimes the screaming could be heard from downstairs. Most of all, she could sneak out. Go to her friends house, go to the park, just escape. The snow though, was her jail. Her father was her prison. She gently placed her backpack on her bed. She looked under her bed, slowly pulling out a little blanket full of five kittens. These kittens were her escape. Each were black, they had their own collars she had made them. They were so tiny. Mama told her that she wasn’t gonna have kittens running around her house. So they weren’t, they were Lori’s babies. She found them in the cold, her mother knew but didn’t acknowledge it. She opened her dresser drawer. She had some baby bottles that she gave the kittens some milk for. She did her best to feed them. She placed them on her bed. She opened her many photo albums. She was filling up the first one without the pictures of her sister in them, Lola. Lori felt hot tears running down her red cheeks. She felt something. A warm, soft touch. She turned her head away from her book. One of the kittens was resting it’s head on her leg. Soon all the kittens came, two rest on her stomach, one on her arm, and one on her shoulder. This was her escape.
I wrote the entire story. Title made on Canva.
