Rain. It was raining again. Ryans sigh misted up the window as he turned away. He knew it didn't mattee that it was raining, it wasn't like he was allowed outside anyway.

As he turned, his arm brushed against the rusting bars, as cold and dark as his parents hearts, and he froze, pain shooting up his arm and he winced. Once Ryan had opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the half-empty bottle, bloodied fingerprints on the side and the razor.

Memories came flashing back, of his mother screaming at him, running up the stairs, his father screaming that he brought the bottle back. Ryan heard the sudden 'beep' drop his computer and he was brought out of his real life nightmares and ignored it
He grabbed the bloody, half filled vodka bottle and drank. Acid pain ran down Ryans throat and he dropped the bottle.

It landed with a crash and a sea of glass swept over his feet but he didn't notice. All Ryan felt was the push and throb as the blade went deeper and deeper intl his arm. Crimson life pulsated out of the already deep cuts from previous days. Firey blood ran down his arm like a waterfall, collecting in the already blood stained carpet.

Ryan closed his eyes, feeling his life ebb away. Something was wrong. He'd never bled this much before. He couldn't stop it. It flowed and flowed, pooling around his feet. Dizzy and light headed, Ryan couldn't blame it on the alcohol. Knowing his parents wouldn't care he struggled over to the window. He banged against the glass, red dripped down the bars.

Ryan heard a noise coming from below and the clattering and cursing of his mother coming up the stairs. Panicked, Ryan grabbed a shard of glass, the blade embedded to deep to pull it out. Instead he grabbed the last thing he would ever use.

Glass in one hand he pushed it into his neck, slicing open veins. His palm was wet and sticky with blood. Now there was a river pouring out his neck, surrounding his head like a halo. He crumpled and fell to the floor, his eyes rolled back. He heard his door being flung open. Then a scream.

The blinding light faded into darkness and he felt as though he was flying, in the darkness he swore he heard the laughter of a child. This wasn't right. His sister had died four years ago. Ryan felt tears roll down his face, Rebecca was only five.

Then their mother came back drunk, hit her then left. The blade in Ryans arm had come from Rebeccas. Five years old and already dead. More laughter. He felt a hand on his back. Ryan swung round and swatted at nothing. Tears of frustration sprung from his eyes and he fell to his knees. Ryan looked up and face down on the floor was a child. A dead child. Rebecca.

A cry escaped Ryans lips, he ran to her. Before he could reach her, he ran into a wall. An invisible wall between him and his sister. Again he heard the laughter. He looked round then turned back. She was gone. The invisible force left, causing his body to fall forward.

The laughter came again but this time it came from behind him. She was dressed all in white but it was dotted with the same specks of dried blood that coated her arm and oozed out of her wound. Without thinking Ryan put a hand to his arm as soon as Rebecca put a hand to his neck.

Ryan flung his head back, eyes and mouth wide open but no scream came out. Ryan fell backwards into a deep abyss and could only look on in pain and regret as Rebecca stood watching. Laughing.

Ryan tried to wake up but the pain was as real as Rebecca was. Then he heard it. A wolf howl. Then silence. Followed by a scream.