Family

Ever since I was little I always wondered why dad had left us. Emma and I had tried to keep positive, but when mum died, it seemed like the world was collapsing on us. We got taken into child services, and were moved from one foster home to the next.

The Milners: They weren't cruel, or unkind. They just simply didn't care. One time Emma got locked in the attic. When I told them, they said they didn't know where the key was, and went back to watching television. When I finally found the key, Emma had been sitting in the dark attic for at least 2 hours. As soon as the door was open, she shot out of the room and into my arms, hugging me tightly.

The Estersons: They were harsh. How they ever got accepted as a foster family is still beyond me. Emma and I spent most of our time hiding from them. The husband was always drinking and he often beat whoever was in sight. Sometimes it was Mrs. Esterson; sometimes it was even Emma or I. He picked on me the most because I was the youngest. When he lost his job, he came home to the rickety shack we resided in, and found me drawing Emma and me with a picture of a nice, big, diverse family. He reached down his large meaty hands and ripped my drawing in half. He then yanked me up by my grubby shirt front and shoved my 7 year old body against the hard wood walls. To this day, I still remember his dark grey (almost black) eyes glaring at me from his flushed purple face. At that moment, Emma had come running down the steps and gave a yelp when she saw what was occurring. She had tried to tackle the man. When he threw me to the ground, I saw stars. I heard Emma screaming again, and looked up to see a blurry image of my older sister trying to hit our assailant with the coloring book. He grabbed her curly blonde hair, and dragged her to the tattered sofa, yelling nonsense at her. She managed to wriggle free and sped over to me. Clutching my hand my sister had dragged me up the stairs as the man came barreling after us. Desperately looking for a hiding place, we found one behind the small dresses in Mrs. Esterson's closet. Sliding the door behind us, we had held our breath as we waited to get caught and punished. When we heard our foster mother come home, Emma cringed, and had whispered to me:

"Hand me the cellphone Sean." Even then we'd been good at picking pockets. Holding back the fears as we heard crashing downstairs, I saw Emma dialing the phone quickly.

"Hello?!" Emma had gasped into the phone. "Oh thank god! There's an emergency." She was still whispering. I heard a faint voice over the speaker.

"Tell me your name, location, and state of emergency." I said a really bad word when I heard a scream from below. Obviously Mrs. Esterson wasn't having an easy escape.

"My name is Emma, my brother Sean and I are hiding in a closet at 232 Montrose Lane. There's a man beating his wife downstairs. I think he's going to kill her! He tried to kill us too, but we got up here, but then his wife came home-"

The operator must have said something because Emma had gulped and agreed to whatever they had said. When she hung up the phone, she held me closer.

"It's ok. Help's coming Sean. I promise we'll be alright."

When I heard sirens 10 minutes later, I knew that our time with the Esterson's was over.

After going through several other foster homes, none of which stuck (in fairness some of the cause was our fault-we were honing our pickpocket and lying skills even then) we ended running away. Fighting our way through the big bad streets of London was harder than we'd both thought. But now, we knew we could only rely on each other. We'd learned the hard way that trusting others was just another way to get hurt. Dad had been the prime example of this. We leaned on each other, making friends and a couple enemies.

At one point I'd been afraid that Emma was going to leave me. She'd fallen head over heels for Joe Ryan. All she wanted was a big family. I knew I'd be included in that family, but it wouldn't be the same. After he disappeared leaving her broken hearted, I was determined to find him, if only to break his neck. It didn't matter that he was a foot taller. I'd beat him up. On principle. He never came back though.

We spent several rough years after that, making a living through pick pockets, lying, faking many different identities. Then, we met the gang. That might just have been the best day in my life.

Michael Stone: a.k.a "Mickey Bricks". He was the man who really saved us. He's the ring-leader, the con master, and the one who always knows what he's doing. He's funny, nice, and can always tell when you're hiding your emotions. Albert trained him, and Mickey is loyal as Ash is, especially to Albert. His dark skin and eyes are noticeable and kind. You'd never think that he had conned people out of thousands of pounds.

Ash Morgan: The technical support, the snarky one. He made you feel like you were dumb sometimes, but he's like an older brother to me. He looks out for me, and he can always tell when my mind is somewhere else. He has a temper, but is loyal to those who deserve it. This includes Mickey, and Albert. And now, surprisingly, Emma and I. He helps Mickey train me and my sister.

Albert Stroller: The man who looks like a grandfather, but never gave up. He was in prison once, and he got out along with Mickey (who'd been in jail for beating his someone with a baseball bat-he never gave us the details). He also was the one who taught mentored Mickey. He's been grifting since the art began, he knows every trick, sneak, and wrong move in the book. He's the roper; he has contacts in every nook and cranny in all of London.

And now, Emma and I are part of the crew. We can use our talents to rob the rich and greedy to get revenge and show them just how wrong they are. Emma exploits her looks, and her ability to think on her feet to help the others convince the mark to do what we need it to do. Mickey is training me to do my very best. And the thing is if I succeed I will have learned from one of the best. Mickey was trained by Albert after all.

So after many long, hard, arduous years, Emma and I have gotten what we have been deprived of for almost 15 years.

Family.