We were never allowed to leave. The space between the mouldy walls was all we knew. We lived most of our lives in the old house in darkness, in wonder of the outside world.

I was the only one out of the 6 of us who had been outside. My memory of it was faint, but I remembered the trees and the grass so clearly. The younger ones were always intrigued by this, having never seen the outside, so I would tell them stories, filling their heads with images of what waited for them in the world. Mother hated this. She would get angry, telling me I was ruining them, that I would only lead them to danger.

"The outside world is not safe, " she would often say. "They are safe here."

Eventually, I grew to believe this. She told us stories of her own, of what went on and I began to believe her lies. I stopped telling my stories in fear one day the children would get too curious and go outside. After all, all I wanted was for them to be safe. But as I said, her stories were only lies. It was the house that was unsafe.

Blackness surrounded me. The only light came from the small crack in the boarded up window. I turned my head to peek through it, where I could see the big grey circle that hovered in the sky. I often wondered what it was. I considered asking Father about it, but if he knew about the crack, if he knew I could see outside, he would only get mad. So, instead, late at night when everyone else laid asleep, I would just wonder about it instead.

I continued to gaze at the beautiful skylight as my siblings tossed and turned in their sleep until a light that passed by the gap under the door. My head darted to the door as I listened to Mother and Father's whispers. I rested my head back on the pillow and shut my eyes .

"Hurry. You don't want the children catching us do you?" Mother spoke in a hushed voice.

My eyelids flung open just as their footsteps walked away, darkness filling in the gap again. Curiosity grew. What was she talking about?

I waited until the hall fell silent again. Quietly, I reached for the torch on the shelf above the bed and turned it on. Slowly, I climbed over my siblings and shuffled towards the door before carefully twisted the handle. I froze, expecting Mother or Father to hear me but nothing.

The door crept open and I stuck my head around it. The narrow, dusty hall was clear and so I tiptoed down the rotten wooden floors to where they bent at the corner. My body paused there as I listened for mother and father's whispers.

"Be quiet!" Mother cursed. There came a thump. As fast as I could, I switched off the light. Once they had gone, I switched the torch back on and proceed, stopping at the basement staircase.

Again, I turned off the torch in fear of them seeing it. I peered down at the small section of the concrete floor at the bottom of the steps - the only part of the basement I had ever seen. We were forbidden to go down there.

I jerked back when the sound of despair muffled came from the room.

"Shut her up!" My mother ordered in a hushed voice.

The voice in my head wanted me to go back to bed. It begged for me to walk away as a bad feeling ached in my gut. But my curiosity only peeked. I placed one foot on the first step and paused. When they didn't notice, I placed the other. I carried on down the steps until I reached the last few steps when suddenly my stomach turned.

They both stood in front of a long metal table, their backs facing me. Like the rest of the house, it was dark, the light source coming from candles and two small lamps hung on the each wall. The concrete floor and walls were splashed in the colour red and brown. The long chains with curled hooks that hung from the ceiling sent shivers down my shine. On one side of the room stood a large wooden cabinet and to the right was another table covered in all sorts of creepy stuff I didn't quite understand.

It was what was the metal table that shook me to the core.