I saw my sister get buried today. Her name was Willow but everyone called her Will. I tried my best not to get up and yell at the people on the stage. I couldn't believe the face that she was dead. The funeral lasted at least an hour, but truly all I could think about was the fact that the next day if she had not died, we would have been packing our bags to leave this suck ass town. Of course, life has other plans. Willow and I have been town hopping for years on end. We would stay in a town long enough for me to get through one grade. At least a year is how long we would stay.
This all started in middle school, I was 13 years old. We committed a crime that is unspeakable by most, but we wore it proudly (in the legal we could; without getting caught) . We succeeded in killing not only our abusive father but our mother who saw it all happened and never cared enough to help us out. Even when Willow and I were beaten and bloodied, all she did was ask if our father was okay. Not even caring if her own flesh and blood were still alive. Luckily we were, but back then we never knew if we were going to make it out alive.
Willow was 13 at the time and I was 9 or 10 years old I don't quite remember when dead beat did the absolute worst to us. He came home late one night, drunk and high out of his mind. Willow was cooking dinner, and I was doing homework in the living room, as a kid would. He walked to the kitchen instantly, grabbing Willow by the hair and pulling it back as far as he could. She tried to hit him with the spoon she had in her hand, but instead, she ended up grabbing the frying oil throwing it in his face. That's why at his so-called "funeral" his casket was closed. Little did everyone know, our mother and father's bodies were far away so no one could find them. We killed them way before the actual funeral, buried their bodies in the cemetery in unmarked graves, making sure not a soul saw.
After that accident, we both made a promise and a set of rules. A promise to each other, and rules to follow to survive. It was our handbook to survival. We still stuck to it even to her last breath. Her bag is in her coffin, I can see it from here. She's still beautiful even if she is dead as a doornail. I laugh and a couple of people turn in their pews but they slowly turn back around when I give them a death stare. Maybe because I've done it all of my life to get people to stop staring at me and just because I don't wish to talk to them. It does wonders when you're not in a talkative mood. Especially when at funerals, people always want to give you the "I'm sorry for your loss" bullshit when half of them barely knew the deceased. I hate it when they do that. It's not like it will bring them back. It will only make things awkward and make me want to leave.
Willow always told me to remember or write down the rules for survival. Well our rules anyway, they're not quite different from others I don't think, but they are custom to how we would survive, our parents and the real world. We've been running our entire lives, these rules have kept both of us alive, for way longer than we should have. Without them, we would have been caught by now. I get why she created them. She did what our mother never would do. She protected both of us, even if sometimes I hated the fact that I could never have friends or even a boyfriend.
Willow thought of these while we were on a bus bench, we were both homeless at the time. This was after my father had kicked me out for being gay, Willow stormed out of the house with both of our bags, we both knew at that time that neither of them considered us family. We were all we had. We only had each other. I was only 15 at that time, she was 20. She became like the mother neither of us ever had. She protected me till her last breath. She promised to protect me, and she did, she still is.
Before she died, we were packing our bags to get prepared to leave the next week. It was a week before graduation, we had to be prepared to up and leave at any time. The cops were already on our ass because I got caught stealing food (numerous times) . I didn't have enough money to buy food for us to eat that night. We had to steal to survive. Luckily we found a cheap apartment when we arrived here. Our landlord was very flexible on when it was time to pay. We couldn't pay for a few months because I wasn't able to come up with that money. Willow somehow had it though. She saved us.
The night I got caught stealing I forgot the rules. I just ran as my life depended on it, it did at the time. If I got caught either Willow was going to kill me herself or I would die trying to get away from the guilt. I would NOT let myself get caught over something so little as stealing when I had two individuals' blood on my hands. Plus the bag I was carrying had drugs in it, prescription. I had to buy them off the street because we could not afford to go to the doctor or getting insurance. As soon as we changed our names, we lost all the benefits that our old last name had.
The police knew our last name because of the reputation our father had in our hometown. He was known as the town drunk. Everyone was afraid of him. People were afraid of even coming to talk to me and Willow for the simple fact he was our father, yes we benefited from it because people left us alone but it easily got very lonely. Every time we tried to talk or even approach anyone, they would either tear up or start running. I'm guessing it was kind of prepared for what was to come.
Loneliness was to come, it had always been there but now, with Willow gone I truly have no one but myself. I'll forever be alone. All I have to do is follow the rules. Follow the rules Aiden. You can't get ahead of yourself. I won't allow it. We will survive we have to, Willow would require us to. We will live for her. Even if "living" means being alone forever, let it be.
I will forever have revenge in mind. I will forever remember the people who have wronged me and Willow. My revenge is surviving and becoming a success story, even if the only place I'll tell my story is in prison. I will let it be. Prison doesn't sound half bad because I've done the lonely thing all my life. It won't be too much different than dealing with my father and mother on a daily basis. I know it will a hell of a lot better than feeling the stares from the people on the pew behind me, I can feel my anger rising. I can't bring attention to myself. I won't let it boil.
I can't.
Chill down Aiden.
Don't do it.
FUCK IT WHY IS THIS GUY STARING ME DOWN.
He stands and knocks the lights out of the guy behind him.
Benny? What the hell?
RULES TO SURVIVAL
1. Don't trust anyone but yourself, your instincts, and your sibling.
2. Always keep your bag on you and make sure you have and prepared in advance your 'running' items.
Running Bag.
(1. 500-1000$ cash
2. Running shoes
3. Warm clothing
4. 1-2 Thermal Blankets
5. Extra Jacket
6. Powerbank for phone)
3. Be prepared to run. NO MATTER WHAT.
4. Know your safe place and your hideouts if you ever need to run in an instant to get somewhere away from danger, or to keep yourself out of it.
5. Don't act suspicious around cops, or purposely avoid them and they can see you are. It just makes you look 10 times more guilty.
6. Always have at least 500-1000$ on hand or in your bag.
7. Never use a card in a public place, they can always use that to single-handedly track you down.
8. If around somewhere with a camera, keep face down, mask up, eyes covered. Walk confidently, don't make it obvious.
9. Always keep track of where each other are no matter what. Don't lose each other, you need each other.
10. Keep your hair short. You never know who can come right up behind you and yank it causing you to fall.
_________________________________________________________________