His game (being rewritten)

His Game

Prologue

Just one loud shot could be heard ringing through the mansion that Carina called her home. And it was, until that very moment when her mother pushed her into the little hidden room behind her book cabinet, telling her "Don't come out no matter what. If someone calls your name, you act as if it isn't yours and you stay here, no noise made," before she pushed the cabinet back, making the automatic lights turn on in the little room, that could make anyone claustrophobic.

Truthfully? It hasn't been the first time the 6-year-old girl had heard one - a shot, but it was different now because she knew that her family was facing the end of the barrel. The sound of the shot fired, made her skin crawl. Someone had died; she knew that much, yet that wasn't enough. She was scared, as anyone would be; at least anyone who loved their family, no matter what they were involved in. Silent tears started to run down her cheeks.

She didn't sob, and she didn't ugly cry. She just let the sadness out of her body, but she did it quietly. Her body was defending itself. Not knowing what was going on, yet knowing something bad was happening, pushed her young brain into overdrive. Her hands were hugging her knees, and she started to rock herself back and forth as if sitting in a rocking chair. She could hear voices from the outside, yet the soft, black dots that started to appear before her eyes, made it impossible for her to hear what they were saying, or who they belonged to.

But, what did I matter to a girl that was only 6 years old, and the only thing that she had to worry about was her parent's well-being and, let's not forget, that each of the stuffed animals she owned, were tucked in with her at night, so no one would feel left out.

And even the little worry, in the world, that she carried upon her little shoulders, were gone, when sleep took over, shutting her mind off. She drifted off to sleep, not knowing that once she'd wake up, she'd have no recollection of what was going on and that the little amount of memory, of the young life she had, would be wiped out of her head as if they never existed in the first place.