PROLOGUE

———

I can barely hear anything, can barely see anything. The smell of smoke fills my nostrils, my lungs. I can’t even form coherent thoughts. I mean, I was five, so I don’t think I would’ve been able to either way. A single voice cuts through the sound of sizzling flames.

“MARUSILYNN!”

 It was my elder brother, Charley. He was only eleven, so he was six years older than me. 

Suddenly, I’m on the ground. Now that I’m under the majority of smoke, I can see my space a bit better. It’s my hollow bedroom, with the mattress on the floor and a few, broken toys scattered around. It wasn’t much, as my parents had refused to give me any more than they were required to give to a small child. 

Charley was on top of me, wailing. No, he was dragging me across the floor. He kept repeating my name, over and over. It was all I could focus on, all I wanted to focus on. 

After what felt like hours, we were out of the house. The moon was out, the Carolina night sky glimmering. I could see. 

My brother was holding me, sobbing. Our parents were still in the burning house. I could care less. I can still see hit marks they gave to him on Charley’s malnourished body. 

He was looking around wildly, then suddenly he threw me around his chest, and put me on his back. 

   Next thing I know, we’re running. Running towards nothing. Just escaping. He ran until his legs gave out, but he just stood right back up. He kept running even while I was begging him to stop, to rest.

  We finally made it to the woods. He set me down, me feeling completely helpless. What else are you meant to feel when you’ve sprinted across the state and have nothing on you but a pocket knife and the clothes on your back?

  “Brother, we can find a place.. somewhere,” I whisper, my voice threatening to leave me, “Like an orphan home. What mother told us she would take us to.”

Charley shakes his head, hands never leaving my shoulders. “Lynn, we can’t. We don’t know what they’ll do to us,” he said breathlessly.

My eyebrows knit together, but I don’t defy him. Big brothers always know best. Right?

-EIGHT YEARS LATER-

I’m cleaning in the tiny apartment Charley got us. It’s not much, it’s very illegal, but easy to cover up. He worked hard for it, robbing banks for the money at only age twelve. We’re safe, for now. He comes up behind me, pushing me lightly.

“Hey!” I yelp. He laughs at me. His one eye looks at me, full of love. He lost his left eye 6 years ago from an infection. It was simple, nothing dramatic. Just.. kinda popped out. I’m fourteen now, and he’s twenty.

”I’m going to the dumpsters, wanna join?”

I nod. I’m never in my life going to pass up a chance to be with my older brother. He grabs his pocket knife, and walks out the door. I scurry after him, grinning like a maniac.

We exit the apartment building and turn into the alley way next to it. On the other side, there’s a donut shop, and they throw out a lot of donuts and sometimes other pastries. I flip the lid of the dumpster up, and lean over the top, digging around. 

  “It's the motherload!” I say to my big brother.

  He grins, holding his hands out so i can pass him the precious food.

Then, I hear two men talking outside of the alleyway.

 “Yo, do ya’ hear that?” Says one. Another grunts out a response. “Prolly just some raccoons.”

I look at my brother, and he’s noticed them as well. Then, the faces to the voices appears. One of them has black hair and is smoking a cigarette, while the other has brown hair and has a scar on his cheek.

   “Oi! What’re you kids doin’ here?!” Says the smoking one. 

      I open my mouth to respond, but my brother beats me to it. 

  “I dunno, what’re you doing here?”

Scar-face rolls his eyes then spits out, “We own this alleyway.”

“Looks like a public space to me,” my brother simpers.

Smoking Guy gets red in the face, and pulls out a dagger. 

“Oh we’re playing like this?” My brother asks, now wielding his own knife. I position my fists in front of me, ready to throw a few punches.

Smoking Guy lunges towards me, swinging his weapon wildly. Charley tries to shove him away, but Smoking Guy is too fast, and wipes my arm clean off from my elbow.

Charley plows into him, full of rage, and instead of stabbing him, he slams his elbow into the side of Smoking Guy’s head, knocking him right out. 

I pick my severed arm up, watching it bleed.

”Well bloody hell.” I laugh at my accidental pun. 

Meanwhile, my brother is knocking the other dude out. He picks the pastries up off the concrete, then instantly drops it when he sees me. He sprints to my side, kneeling down.

He pulls out a needle and thread, and starts stitching my arm back on wordlessly.

  I examine his face as he does this, how his eyebrows furrow in concentration, and how his nostrils flare with every shaky exhale.

He finishes the last stitch, breathing out a quiet “There.”

It’s certainly not perfect, but it’ll keep us from having to go to the hospital. He picks me up and carries me back to our one room apartment. Big brothers are always strong and determined. Right?

From @Goof_Central xxx