Brian Sattler
Bio
Stories (3/0)
Chapter 1 of my novel i am writing
The end, just kidding, I wish it was that simple. I walk through the wooden oak door into my parent's poorly lit house, taking a deep breath of the stale air that haunted this place. The walk to the kitchen sink seemed to take years as I mournfully washed my parent's blood from my arms. I scrub my hands, not feeling the burn from the hot water as I angrily scratch at the dry blood still residing on my hands. I turn to glance back at the empty, lifeless living room, placing memories as if ghosts roamed the room. I watch as my dad sits in his chair and laughs as my mom spills flour all over the kitchen. The smell of fresh pine on a cool Christmas day with gifts scattered around the tree. These thoughts vanish along with the memories ripped away with the cold-blooded murder of my parents leaving the darkroom quiet and empty.
By Brian Sattler10 months ago in Criminal
Why I left
Anita looks down at the note in her hands and she begins to read it her hands shaking with nerves. Dear Mom, I was stuck looking into mirrors and only seeing a shell looking back at me, a ghostly apparition that I did not recognize. Nothing was your fault, you were the only shining light in my living hell. I could never talk to you about what was going on because Dad was threatening me. He would get close to my face and scream with the smell of cigarettes burning my nostrils, he would remind me that he never wanted me.
By Brian Sattler10 months ago in Confessions
