As we gathered our things the following day, to go on a journey that we will never look back on. On these roads, going to where they lead us, it's just the two of us. Last night, the packing was the hardest pack, but it was time for us to go. It was nothing left there for us, so we had to make the move. Days passed and nothing seemed to get better, it only got worse as time went by. They say all we have is time, so we figured it was time to make ourselves useful. So far gone, as we ride we will never look back on our past.
You can hear the water beating on the car, as we drive through the fog. The sky is dark and the street is even darker. Our destination seems so far away, but we must keep moving. The sirens are still haunting our ears. The closer our destination the more piercing the sirens are. Who would've known we'd be capable of such horrific things. As I look to the passenger seat, it's still empty, but the two of us know it's filled. Memories flood, we pull the car over and sit for a while. Stand in the rain, just wanting to let these thoughts fade away, but they are permanently there.
Flashbacks point that the blame is on us, but how can it be? We didn't do anything wrong, or did we? So many questions, it's not enough answers to tell us who's to blame. How can we be in the wrong? How?
Deep down, an eerie presence sparks back up, as I leap out the car and get soaked. The rain stops suddenly. The red is running down into the gutters, as we watch it wash away. What have we done? We aren't going to go back there, it's impossible. We're the ones who are guilty, not them. It can't be though, we never started it.
Years ago, we were adopted by a family. This family wasn't ordinary people. In fact, it was a family of the devil. They made us work, while their kids played. Sometimes, their kids would take supervision over us. At such a young age, what were we supposed to do? We couldn't tell these people, who call themselves parents, no. That was the problem, we couldn't do anything. If we tried to tell the social worker, she wouldn't believe us because the family is going to put a show. Besides, these people were rich. Money fell everywhere they walked and they knew it, they loved it. The envy in their eyes and the greed they set upon their originals. We called them originals because those were their actual children. They made us stay up late while cleaning. Some days, they made us stay out of school and forced us to crawl in feces. It was pure disgusting.
One day, there was a knock at the door. The man came in with bad intentions for them; at least that's what we thought with the anger on his face. The man said,"Why has Bradley been missing so much school?" The woman, known as our mother, Mrs. Vail spoke and said,"I been dropping him off at school every day, he must be skipping his classes." The cop replied,"Well, you know what we have to do Mrs. Vail." He pulled out the handcuffs as we stood in shock. As I lift my head up, get off the couch and turn my back, she looked at us both laughing.
Couple months go by, and we both were released. Walking out the doors, we notice who was there to pick us up, Mrs. Vail. The so called only mother we have, waiting to pick us up. Now, things were different when we got home. Everybody kept treating us like nothing ever happened. Ever! Everything seems so puzzling, at first. Then, just a couple weeks later, things fall right back into place. The beatings were worse this time. In fact, we agreed that we would rather crawl through the feces again, instead of what we are going through now. Pitiful, absolutely pitiful. The weeks go by, maybe months, who knows anymore. Some days, we go without eating. Then, there are other days that I don't want to know what we are eating.
Years pass by and things only get worse. Day by day, we feel ourselves breaking. There is only so much you can take, before you are bound to break. This day, was far from the typical day in the Vail house. In fact, this day was magnificent. On this day, we turn seventeen. May not seem like a age worth the celebration, but to us it was overly worth it.
Everybody has gone to the store today and it's us all by our lonesome. The Vail's are no where in sight; we got the house to ourselves. The first thing we do, turn on the television set. That's right; we get to watch television finally. We don't even know what comes on television because of our secluded life. As we sit down, I think about a big bowl of ice cream. Oh yes, ice cream and some television. It's been so long, since we've even had the taste of the deliciousness. The last time, was probably before our biological parents had passed. Munching on ice cream, enjoying the television shows. All of a sudden, we hear a car door shut. Thinking that it was them, we try to hurry and put the ice cream away and wash the dishes. While drying the dishes off, we forgot one little thing, which was to turn the TV back to its original channel. Running from the kitchen to the living room, we stop, our hearts drop to our feet. There the Vials' were, standing with the door wide open. They were pissed; anger couldn't explain the expressions on their face. I yelled out,"We're not taking this anymore!" Mr. Vail yelled back,"Get back in your room and I don't want to see you anymore for the rest of the week!" Mrs. Vail spoke up,"Quit talking like you have someone here with you, when it's only you!" I slammed the door, as I walked down the steps to the basement. "Who are they to tell us what to do" as I spoke out loud.
That night, I sat up plotting, planning my escape to get out of what I assume to be hell on earth. Decided to pack my things and it was time to make that move because this life, the life I live, is pure hell and it's about to change and I mean it. Seventeen and the day went from great to another one of my living nightmares, which every day was a nightmare in my world. Tossing and turning, I get up out the bed and decide we are going to make a change tonight. As I walk into the kitchen, I grab the long blade that I assume would be the chef knife. Just as I'm plotting in my head, while facing the window at the kitchen sink, I hear a faint whispering,"What are you doing?” I turn around and all I see is a feint shadow. There I go, letting my imagination get the best of me I thought. Gripping the knife handle, I walk closer to the shadow and the shadow becomes more detailed. I can tell this is definitely Mr. Vail and hear is my opportunity to make everything come to an end. Flicking the light on, I see the back of his greasy hair. Shoving the knife into his lower back, I hear a yelp. Tumbling to the floor, rolling around in agony, I grab the keys on the kitchen sink to his car. Now, I'm off to the new start of a new life. Just my conscience and I, we ride off in the rain with blood that will stain these old, torn clothes…