I laid on my twin mattress, my brother next to me on his. We listened to Mom laughing away with her man of night. We kept quiet as she took credit for cooked meal and clean house. I grew angrier with each word. Sephen laid quiet beside me, barely even breathing. I silently told myself I was leaving this place first chance I got, which by the sounds of things, it would be soon.
"Sephen." I whispered. "Lets leave tonight." He didn't stir. I felt him look at me though. "Lets do it when Mom and her guy friend pass-out. Lets just pack up what we need and head North." He still didn't answer me, so I looked to him in the darkness. Our eyes met as the laughter difted away, toward the far end of the house, where Mom slept.
"Yes. Lets get out of this horrible place!" I sat up quickly, jumping out of bed. I grabbed my old school bag and rushed to the kitchen. Sephen was behind me. I started packing bread and peanut butter. "Lets go!"I whispered.
Sephen grabbed me, "What do you think you're doing? We can't leave. Mom will find us." I snorted and ripped away, packin more food into my bag.
"She'll have more children to torture!" I said, a little too loudly. I went back to our room, lugging the food heavy bag. I snatched up Sephen's and packed in some of my clothes, and some of his. I was excited about it, leaving this horrid woman and crappy run down house. I gabbered to myself, mumbling about clear skies from here on out. Sephen stood in the door away, watching me with suspicious eyes. I stood up straight and looked at him. "I'm leaving."
"I don't care. I hate this place."
"So do I."
"Lets leave. I won't leave without you." He looked to the livingroom then grabbed the food bag. He nodded, and away we went.
The light of the moon was the only thing to guide us as we trekked back to the clearing where Sephen grabbed me earlier. We snaked through the woods, the moon blinking as the leaves over head thickened and thinned. The night sounds were creeping me out, but with Sephen beside me I knew I was safe.
I asked him, "Do you have your knife?"
"Yea." He murmured, tapping his left middle finger on the buldge in his jeans. I grabbed his hand. He looked at me.
"I'm scared." I said quietly. "I've always been afraid of the dark. That's when Mom always came for me."
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