Lucy Hall stood quivering in her dirty white nightgown. Rigid she stood, pressing herself against the oak china cabinet, that was devoid of dishes after her mother had broken all of them earlier. Her dirty, tiny arms held her sister behind her back, sheltering her.
Tears trailing down her dirty face leaving tracks as they fell silently, and her red hair tangled and knotted. Blood dripped, and then dried on her forehead from her mother yanking on her hair--just an hour ago. Lucy is scared and doesn’t know what to do. She only knew one thing. She would protect her sister at any cost.
Her mother tore down the white lace curtains days ago revealing the empty bay window, but today she cut the plush, beige sofa and love seat, broke the oak table and chairs, piling them in the center of the room, as if she planned to start a fire later.
It had been this way from the time their Father left. Lucy couldn’t understand why he left them alone with her. He made empty promises he didn’t keep.
Lucy stared at the kitty-cat clock directly across from her, watching its eyes moving back and forth as it ticked. Her heart beating in time with the minute hand as it clicked another second.
Exactly at noon someone pounded on the door.
“Open up it’s the police,” the loud voice shouted through the door, just before they kicked it in, slamming it open. Everything that happened afterward was a blur.