Brielle studied herself in the broken mirror of the dirty bathroom. She took a deep breath, silently reminding herself to follow the rules, ensuring her twin brother, Blake, and she would not face punishment.
Exiting the dimly lit bathroom, Brielle navigated the narrow hallways leading to the small room she shared with Blake. It wasn't much of a room, just a bed, a dresser, a small table, and a bookshelf. No personal touches. Despite the rest of the house, she could never call it a home. It was just a place where she would live until she turned 18.
The exterior of their house portrayed an image of domestic perfection, carefully curated by their mother, Bertha, and stepfather, Kaiden. However, for Brielle and Blake, the reality unfolded in the shadows of the basement. Despite the apparent comfort of their living conditions, they were prisoners within the walls of a house that concealed a darker truth.
"Girl, come down; it's time for dinner," Bertha's cold voice echoed through the sterile hallways, signaling the start of another soul-crushing ritual.
Brielle took a shaky breath. "Coming, Ma'am."
Her mother never called her by her real name, just "girl." Brielle was also not allowed to call her "mom," just "mama," and for her stepfather, "sir."
When she reached the kitchen, she was emotionless, standing beside her brother with her head down, just as the rules dictated.
"Boy, girl, you may sit down," their stepfather, Kaiden, declared.
They sat at the table. When Bertha brought in dinner, Blake and Brielle's portions were meager, just enough to keep them from passing out. They had to maintain the illusion of a perfect family. Passing out would reveal weakness.
Kaiden and Bertha controlled every aspect of their lives, from how they dressed to whom they spoke. The twins had never been to a real school, receiving home instruction from Bertha and reading materials from Kaiden, obtained from the local library. Apart from wandering in the backyard for their limited outdoor time, they had never left the house.
"This is very good, dear," Kaiden said.
"Boy, girl," Brielle grabbed Blake's hand, and he gave her a gentle squeeze.
"Yes, sir," the twins responded instinctively. Kaiden's announcement of their upcoming training was met with a robotic acknowledgment, a thinly veiled euphemism for the brutal conditioning they endured regularly.
"You will be training tomorrow," Kaiden stated.
"Yes, sir," they echoed dutifully. However, a minor spill shattered the veneer of perfection, resulting in Kaiden's violent response. Brielle found herself at the receiving end of his wrath, while Blake, aware that any intervention would lead to more punishment, could only watch in silent agony.
In the dimly lit basement, chains were fastened to their ankles, a cruel reminder of their futile attempt to escape. As Kaiden stormed out, leaving them alone in the oppressive darkness, Blake offered solace to Brielle, their bond providing a rare source of comfort.
"Are you okay, Bri?" Blake's voice was a gentle reassurance in the midst of their harsh reality.
Brielle, her tears staining the dirty pillow beneath her head, admitted, "I don't want to be here anymore."
"I know. One day, we will get out of here," Blake whispered, his gaze fixed on a small, barred window that offered fleeting glimpses of the outside world.
"I know," Brielle replied, a fragile thread of hope connecting them in the desolate space they called home. "I'm sorry about having you do extra training tomorrow."
"It's not your fault," Blake consoled her, his eyes reflecting determination born out of a shared desire for freedom.
As the night wore on, a shooting star streaked across the sky. Blake urged Brielle to make a wish, but she had already succumbed to the exhaustion of their harsh reality, finding solace in the embrace of her brother.
The silence was shattered by a sudden boom, jolting Brielle awake. Shouts and banging reverberated through the basement, prompting her to shake Blake, who groggily asked, "What?"
Before Brielle could respond, the basement door burst open, and a commanding voice ordered them to raise their hands. Flashlights illuminated their faces as the voice questioned their names.
"My name is Blake, and this is my sister, Brielle," he answered, knowing Brielle preferred not to speak.
"Is your last name Storm?" the voice inquired.
"Yes," Blake replied.
The voice produced a cell phone, triumphantly announcing, "I found them."
YOU ARE READING
The Storms
General FictionBrielle and Blake were taken away at a young age. What happens after years they are finally reunited with there father and brothers.
