Predators of a foster...

It was a quiet afternoon...the wind was blowing from the south..spring has arrived..there stood an old house on the hill with its walls weathered by nature.It looked heavenly but don't be deceive by its charming appearance.It is here lies the kingdom of torture.And each time the door is closed, there will be the others who stand beside .The house was full of hatred.There are whips everywhere hanging on the wall.The walls had faded.some parts are torn.There were even scratches.It was as if someone tried to get away from something.The windows had barbwire and nailed with wooden planks.There was no escape.In the house, there's a room.There were voices that could be heard.Sad voices echoing of sorrowfulness.Toys could be seen lying all over the place.Some have been deformed.The toys have been abused.An act of cannibalistic.Could someone did it to regain control of his or her life?There were obviously signs of unhappiness due to lack of love or even a sense of bonding.Theres a slight stench in the room.The bed has been wet several times.Next to the bed stood an aged looking cupboard.There are clothes of a minor.No pictures of families could be seen on the walls of the room.It looked gloomy as if hope has been taken away.