"No please! Please don't do this!" I heard my mother say as I emerged from the bathroom that connected my room. I slowly walked down the hallway as crashing sounds could be heard from the living room and my mother groaning in pain. I rounded the corner just as this man swung a hatchet and hit my mom in the head making her blood pour down her face in a crimson red mass. I gasped in horror and the man's attention immediately went to me. My mother's lifeless body dropped down onto the hardwood floor like a sack of potatoes and I stood there frozen in place. My brain was screaming orders to my feet to run but my stupid feet wasn't accepting the commands. He raised the hatchet above his head before bringing it down on my shoulder making the blood pour from the wound and a staggering pain shoot through my body. I screamed loudly as I fell to the floor and I crawled trying to get away but the man kicked me hard in the ribs. He picked me up by the neck with the most vicious and sadistic smile on his face before throwing my back down on the floor and making me slide down the hall. My small body stopped when I made contact to the wooden table with my back which didn't help the pain that was pulsating through my ripped shoulder.

"Please leave me alone!" I yelled but it didn't even make the man flinch. I looked around for something to use and spotted a baseball bat. I reached out to grab it but I wasn't fast enough. The man towered over me with the bloody hatchet and slammed it right into my chest.

I gasped for air as I shot up in bed covered in a cold sweat. The nightmares that haunt my dreams have plagued me for 3 years and I wish that they would go away and haunt someone else. I slowed my breathing back to normal as I got out of bed and went into the bathroom I shared with my other room mates here in The East Side Children's Home. The cool water washed away the sweat that accumulated on my face and I looked at myself in the mirror. My complextion wasn't the best since the nightmares have been getting worse. I mean they always do around the time of the anniversary of my parent's death. There was no way I was going to be able to get back to sleep tonight. Hell, I hardly ever got back to sleep after having that damn nightmare about...about that psychopath who calls himself Croc.

Maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Violet Newman and this is my fucked up life. Well, maybe not as fucked up as some of the other people here nor my 2 best friends Brandy and Kalico but it's still pretty fucked. I bet you're wondering who this Croc person is...well quite frankly I don't even know his real name. All I know is that he is one fucked up son of bitch who deserves to be behind those prison walls for the rest of his life. Before Croc had been put into prison, he killed 35 people. He told the police he killed for pleasure and to cause pain to the people who made fun of him and also for the years he's been on this earth. His first 2 kills were his own parents.

I wiped off my face with a towel before leaving the bathroom and flicking off the light. I laid back down in bed and stared into the darkness that surrounded the other people who were still sleeping. I looked at the clock that illuminated the time in big blue letters onto the wall...5:55AM. It would be sunrise soon and that's the only thing I really prayed for. The daylight helped me from falling asleep but at times I just couldn't help it. The nightmare began when I was 10 years old but now being 13...that horrific day still invades my most vunerable state...my dreams.

Notes

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