Perfect Family

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
(I'm not sure if it counts as horror, so, don't hate me)
A story about 1950's family on what happens when one drunk father does not find help in his love to drinking, and his family is force to leave before things get to far out of hand.

I wrote this story from a school project. Enjoy.

Submitted: February 14, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 14, 2011



This is my home,” I whisper to my babies, “My home, with my perfect family. Because, none will die. All shall live in my happy home!”

All was silent in my rat sized apartment. My heart, and home shall always be in Brooklyn, New York. This is my home. With my not so perfect family.

My name is Alice. Although, at the moment, I wish it wasn't. Right now, I wish I wasn't me at all. But, I am me. And me lives with my husband Sylar, little girl Darcy, and little boy Tommy. And my new one month old baby girl, Lucy.

But their lives are in danger, shall always be in danger, the same way my heart shall always belong to the City.

Shut up, Alice!” Sylar yelps as his fist meets my face. “You are one little, slut!” He screams pushing me to the cold hard wood floors.

I hide my face in my hands, as I've learned not to speak to the man called my husband when he's been drinking. Or it'll only will get worse for me and my baby.

You are one, whore!” He yells at me. His piecing green eyes hurting me more then his words, and blows. His eyes. The eyes that watch my every move as I whimper and groan as blood pours to the light colored floor. His eyes watching with a smile upon themselves as pain rises from my toes to head. I can only look away, and hope not to cry with his staring eyes.

He blends low, and rises my chin, my blues meeting his fire stuck eyes, “You only got me,” he growls shaking his head with a chuckle before standing back up. His beer stunk breath burnt my nostrils even after he stands like a tower in front of me. His foot smashes into my stomach hard. I scream. Tears running down my pale cheeks like a water fall.

Shut up, you tramp.” He cries grabbing me by the roots of my hair and pulls me up to see face – to – face.

I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” I scream reaching at his hands as if it'd help me. “I am a whore, slut and tramp, and I'm so sorry I am a failure as a wife!” I scream, having trouble breath as his other hand holds my throat, “I'm so sorry!”

I know you are.” He growls with a evil, nasty smile, dropping me with a chuckle. He kicks my leg hard enough for blood to pour like wine. “You always are, my slut.” He laughs, taking another drink of beer, but before doing so, pouring some on my cut leg. I felt Hell's fire as he poured the beer. As tears of blood ran down my face. As my heart beats faster and faster, and breathing becomes harder, and painful. I have come to Hell, and I have married the Devil.

Smiling with a pleased eyes, he pours the rest in my hair, and drops the can. Before walking away, he bends down and spits on my face, “You always have me, whore.” He chuckles, standing and walking away.

I watch him walk away, but I only stay. My hands shaking with my body as pain travels from every inch of me. Playing games of sick death upon my skin. My eyes shake as Pain's game reaches them. I can't help but whimper at the feel, and close my eyes quickly, hiding them with one hand.

I've sadly grown use to the abuse and pain of my husband. But, I've sadly also have gorwn use to hiding my babies from him.

I move slowly, using the wall for support. I steps, and slow pace are almost to a crawl to move. Pain aches me everywhere I can and can not stand. I place my hand to my stomach, and think of how my baby was there, and now she would or should already be dead.

But she lived. For me.

I wished that my baby. His baby. Would have died in the womb, the pure thought of her dying under his fist would kill me by the mere look. I wished upon God to save my baby, and do what's right. And he did, he saved her, and gave her to me.

I thought Sylar would think of her as a toy. To play with when bored. To hit when I can be touched. When Darcy is unable to reach. It'd be my Lucy. But, I refuse to let her go to him. I refuse the idea of what he has done to Darcy be done to the this pure child.

I remove my hand, and use the wall as a guide to the mirror in the hallway. My eyes look at the awful person that lies before them. A fake, a ugly fake. The person who stares back wipes her blooded tears away, while pushing back her string like brown hair, as the dark blue eyes stare back. Taking in everything that this world has to offer. Winkles forming at the young woman's head. A bloody nose, broken helped nothing.

I was not fond of what I stared at. What a ugly creature in the mirror.

Mommy?” I turn to see Tommy, his blond hair, and big blue eyes stared at me with pure and scared innocents. Darcy, taller then her brother stood behind him. Tommy, I'm proud to say looked like me. But, Darcy look like her Father. Which isn't a bad thing. Just hopefully nothing like him. She's better, but yet her Father's beauty marked her with flawless white skin, and big green eyes, dark hair.

Where's Lucy?” I ask, only to see Darcy step to the side to show a small baby with a mix of blue and green eyes, and no hair at all on a pillow yarn. I can only smile when I see the three drop dead beauty of my kids.

Babies,” I say making a slow pace to pick up Lucy, “we are leaving,” I smile holding my sleeping child in my arms as I looked down at my two others. “We're leaving.

I hold one bag in my hand, my other hand holding Lucy close as Tommy held onto my skirt, and Darcy stand her seven year old ground. It pained me seeing at her, she was abused worse then I was. Her abuse would change her life forever in many different ways.

We start walking. Fast. My body feeling as if I could fly the more we walked. Then started running. Scaring Lucy, but no one noticed. I just held her close. The kids smiled. It was a game to them. But, I could only smile too.

After awhile, we stop. Rain poured on use. The kids looked up at the sky, smiles on them as rain poured there our clothes. Lucy cried as I rocked her in the rain. I smiled at the sky. Blessing God, and Jesus Christ.

Mommy,” Tommy says laying on the ground, “is Daddy coming to meet s?” He asked. Darcy looked at me. The question was finally asked.

Is he?” She asked. She was scared. She was hurt. She was in pain. More then I will ever be.

No,” I reply, holding Lucy in my arms as I sit on a wooden box. “Your not going to see Daddy ever again.” I promise with a smile. Approving nod came from, Darcy as Tommy curled into a ball. I bend to whisper in Lucy's ear. “And you shall never feel his abuse.

Days have passed and gone. But all is fine. Great to be honest. But today, I've seen my screw up in the plan. There are posters. Of all of us. And it scared me. More then ever.

Lucy laid sound asleep in my arms, as Darcy stood at my left hiding her face in my shoulder. Tommy stood the same slowly falling asleep at my right. My plan was at ruins thanks to the fact, I didn't – and still don't – have a plan. Just wanted to leave. So, I had to break my promise, we must go back to, Sylar, and I must face him. On my own.

I look at the door to the ruin down home. I couldn't walk in. I was going to throw up. I knew it. But, I held it in, like so many times before, and walked in with MY not his but MY by my side.

Darcy is sobbing silently behind me. My heart breaking for her. Tommy was acting like a man. His chest puffed out, he was a man. My, Little Man. Lucy stayed asleep in my arms. We walked in.

Alice? Alice!” Sylar cried as if he was happy to see us. A whiskey bottle was in his left hand. He was shirt less. He was a mess. You could smell alcohol all over him. Wine bottles were smashed against my wall. Beer cans stayed at home n the ground. “My babies!” He cried and ran at the kids, Darcy stepped back, only to be embraced into a tight hug which I could tell mad her sad. Tommy stayed a man and didn't flinch, till throw on the ground with a Thump.

You all,” he said taking Lucy from me, and holding her before grabbing something in his back pocket. “You all,” he laughed, a pistol was in his hand. As his other arm held my crying baby. “You know,” he said giving me a crocked smile, “All I wanted was a perfect family, instead I got you.” He smiled, the gun was clicked into place.

Time stopped.

Now, I'm going to have my perfect family,” he said nodding to me. “Any of you move, I'll kill you with pain, because this way, won't hurt, but don't test me, and I won't make it hurt.” He growled. Tommy moved. Once.


The gun went off. Tommy was covered in blood. “Warned you.” He smiled. Darcy raised her eyebrows, and her chest went up and down. “God, you slut, you would have made a great whore.” He laughed. She was covered in blood.


Lucy was dropped to the ground. He aimed.


I leaped. My baby was shoot, and killed on the spot. All of my babies.

You slut!” I screamed, and toke the gun, “You whore, you tramp. Bastard.” I growl. “You've used anyone for the last time!”


I stood there holding the gun, before kissing the Devil's forehead, and whispering, “All you got is me.” I kick him, and dropped the gun.

I grab Darcy, and place her on the left of the couch, the grabbing Tommy and putting his body on the right. Lucy stayed in my arms with a peaceful sleep.

This is my home,” I whisper to my babies, “My home with my perfect family. Because non will die. All shall live in my happy home!”

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