You knew something was going on. Your parents hadn't acted like this for a couple of months now. You knew they were on the run from someone. Someone extremely dangerous. Someone who was out to kill your family. Anyway. Might as well look on the bright side. It was your sixteenth birthday tomorrow. Your sweet sixteen party was booked for three days time. That saturday. It wasn't a big do. It never was. You'd never known enough people to invite. It had been the longest you had ever lived in one place. You hear your mum calling you from downstairs.

Your mum had cooked tea. Your favourite. That's when you realised that this was serious. You were moving again.
'Babe, I'm really sorry.' Things that start like that never end well. 'Were going to have to move away again.' You had thought that this time we were going to stay for longer. Obviously not.
'How long till we leave mum?' You secretly didn't want to know the answer.
'As soon as possible. I'm really sorry but we can't stay until Saturday. I know you were really looking forward to it.'
'Ok mum' that's as simple as it always was you wasn't going to start asking questions. You knew she wouldn't give you any answers. So you'd learnt to stay quiet.
You slip away back up to your room. There wasn't much left to pack. You'd found that it was easier just to leave it all in the boxes taking out what you needed as you needed it. A few clothes littered the floor you pick them up and dump them in the closest box.

The next morning you got ready for school. Same as always. Doing your hair and makeup. Fixing it up so it will stay while you were travelling. Before leaving you check the room for the last time.
You call goodbye to your mum as you leave the house. Shutting the door behind you, you begin to take in every little detail on your last walk to school. Each turn in the path. Every crack in the road.

You leave at three sharp no-one knowing that they won't see you again. It brakes your heart every time. Purposely handing your phone into reception as lost after wiping it clean. You knew you wasn't supposed to keep any way of contact. But it was so tempting. You always have to be honest. Your phone book a tiny A6 book filled with all the contacts from everyone you had ever met. It was almost full. You'd have to get another soon. Its your little secret. You know you shouldn't but its your way of remembering everyone and everywhere. Its filled with drawings of people and places. Your little book of memories. Your life in a book.

You were at the front door before you knew it. Mum had said that you could open one of your presents before you left. You didn't have a clue what it could be. You never did. She was fantastic at keeping secrets and not letting the tiniest clue leave her lips. The car was packed. The back window filled with brown boxes.

You walk up the path for the final time. Into the house. It was silent. You assume this was part of the surprise. How wrong you were. In the middle of your clinically clean kitchen was a large box. Wrapped up. Across the top it read. Happy sixteenth Angel. You didn't recognise the handwriting. But it didn't matter at that moment because only your parents called you that. And no one had ever heard them. You don't know your real name. They said that they would tell you when you were old enough to understand. You wonder if that time was now.

You open the box. Carefully as always. Not ripping the paper. Keeping it in one sheet. Under the wrapping was a brown cardboard box. You open it. Not knowing what to expect. But this. This was not what you expected in a million years.

Contained within the box was the mashed up body's of your parents. Their decapitated heads looking up at you. Cold eyes staring fearfully up at you. Unblinking. You turn away. Not wanting to see the sight before you. It stung. You noticed a card on the table. A birthday card. You open it expecting it to be from your parents. The last reminder of their existence. It read:
Dear Angel,
Happy Sixteenth. (The printed message inside.)
I'm watching you.
Your next.
You can run but you can't hide.
Not from me.
Love from your long lost past.
x

The card slips from your fingers. Falling to the floor at your feet. You spin round not knowing what to do. Or where to go. One thing you did know was that you didn't want to be there. Not with your parents corpses. You run. As fast as possible. As far away as possible.