Post by Aeacus on Feb 7, 2004 23:04:32 GMT -5
Aeacus walked into the simple room, new and alone. The bed was right next to the door, a computer desk next to it, a dresser opposite and a closet next to the dresser, next to the closet, a bathroom. Aeacus dropped her bag on the bed and looked around. My new home...I have no home. Aeacus sighed and started to unpack her small bag. The only things she had were her boxing things, a picture of her parents, sketch paper with drawings inside it, and clothes. Aeacus put her clothes away, put her drawing things in another draw, hid her boxing things, and was about to put her picture on the nightstand but stood for a second, holding it in her hands. Her eyes turned green and she sat on the bed, holding the picture in her hands. It was her parents. When she was seven they were brutelly murdered before her eyes. She ran away and was picked up by some man who abused her terribly, making her work and become strong. She escaped after five years of torture and was put into boxing for money. She still did boxing now, but didn't tell people. Aeacus wiped away a small tear and set the picture on the nightstand. Aeacus looked around and then laid down on her stomach on the bed, her head near the door.