Jonathan held tight to the steering wheel as the truck bounced down the road. His foot held the gas pedal to the floor. Even with that it felt they were not moving fast enough. He glanced in the rear view mirror, the lights from town grew small.

He glanced over at his sister. She bounced with the truck, almost like a rag doll. "Maybe we should stop," he said. Almost scared how she sat and stared ahead.

"No," she shook her head. Jonathan turned his eyes back to the road.

He wasn't sure there was anywhere that would be far enough. It seemed the only thing to do. But they had no plan or money and less choices.

One day before

Highlight beamed in Brittany's room. She hurried to get into her pajamas. "Get in bed," the hall light flooded her room. Her older brother Jonathan stood. They both froze hearing the truck door slam. Jonathan closed the door hurrying back to his room. Brittany jumped in bed, pulling the covers over her head.

She lead listening as her father slammed the front door, causing the house to shake. His footstep came up the stairs. Her squeezed her eyes shut as her bedroom door flew open. The cover ripped off get, "get up, get down stairs and cook me something."

"Dad," Jonathan's voice came from the hall. "Brit is sleeping."

"Bull shit," their father hissed. Brittany jumped from bed, heading down stairs.

Their father was a truck driver, and a drunk. A mean drunk. He would be gone for weeks. Leaving Brittany and Jonathan with no food or money. They never knew when he would be back. Or what mood he would come back in.

Things hadn't always been like this. Jonathan and Brittany's parents were married and happy. High school sweet hearts. Their Dad worked in a factory one town up. Their mom did odd jobs but was home most the time.

Their lives were happy. They would go to the dinner Saturday morning for breakfast. Than take a drive on the back roads. Just sight seeing, being a family.

But their mom got sick. At first she dropped things. Than she would fall. After serval trip to doctor and a few to the city for test. They are told she had ALS Lou Garricks disease. There was no cure. It would take her ability to walk talk, and in the end breathe.

Their life was hard while their mother was sick and harder once she pasted. There were mountains of medical bills. Jonathan even quite school trying to work to help out. They lost their home, their father drowned his grief with whiskey. Which lead to him losing his job.

Their Aunt Pam let them rent a house she owned. And their father found a job driving truck making deliveries. But life was not the same. Everyone in town felt bad, but not bad enough. Their mother's family was far away. And their father's family just avoided him.

...

Brittany found a can of soup. She tossed it a bowl throwing it in the microwave. Her father and Jonathan sat at the table. "Get us a beer,' her father demanded. Brittany opened the refrigerator grabbing two beers placing them on the table.

Their father opened his taking a long drink. He place it on ths table wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You working," he asked Jonathan, taking a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

"Yeah, Jonathan opened his beer.

"What is taking so long," their father barked at Brittany. Brittany didn't answer just looked toward the microwave.

Jonathan felt like their dad was harder in Brittany. Maybe cause she looked like their mom. Their father acted as if she had left on her own. Jonathan would hear him crying and yelling to her some night. At times Jonathan couldn't help but be mad at her too. She left, left them with this.

"Well," their father started, " while you and I," he grabbed the beer again. " Are busting our asses." He took a drink, Jonathan followed. "Your sister is whoring around town." Brittany only glanced toward the table.

" Dad," Jonathan groaned.

"I come home, after working on the road for two weeks." He took a drag of his cigarette. "Stop at Tony's to get a pack of smokes. And Tony tells me he seen my daughter," his voice grew louder, "there earlier with Brain Arnold."

Brittany closed her eyes. She never thought he would be home tonight. But it wouldn't have mattered who she was with. Her father would still be mad. He was always mad. Mad their mother died, had he lost his job, mad they lost their house. Mad he had to raise two kids on his own. Nothing made him happy. What ever happiness had been there went with their mother.

"Brain went to high school with me," he was yelling now. "My daughter is out whoring around." Brittany almost laughed. Brain had seen her walking to the store, offered her a ride. Like everyone else he knew their family story. He was simply being kind. "That funny girl," their father was standing. Jonathan stood.

"Dad lets finish our beer." Their father made his way to Brittany. She hated that smell, beer, cigarettes, and oil. He stood in front of her. She yelped as he grabbed her hand. Than screamed as the cigarette was buried in her hand.

"Don't you laugh at me!" Jonathan moved trying to pull his father off Brittany. He turn swinging at Jonathan. "You going to hit me boy?" Brittany moved away holding her hand.

She watched as her dad and Jonathan fought around the kitchen. Her dad slammed him into the refrigerator. Jonathan came back tackling him to the floor. "Stop, get off him," Brittany yelled. She turned to pull their father off. Her effects only earned her a punch in the jaw.

The fight continued around the kitchen, yelling screaming, thing falling. And than it stopped. "Oh my god," Brittany yelled, "oh my god!"

Jonathan winced as he hit a pot hole. "I got stop," he looked toward Brittany. "I can't see straight." Jonathan saw a motel sign and pulled in. "Stay here." Brittany didn't answer or move.

Jonathan went to the front window. A small woman came, "I need a room," Jonathan yelled into the window.

"Night or hour,' she asked.

"Night," Jonathan grabbed his wallet. He was sure cash was the preferred payment method. They wouldn't be asking for I.D or keeping records of who stayed.

"40," the lady called. Jonathan slide her the money, she slide a key back. "End of the building."

Jonathan drove them to the door. He reached back grabbing his bag. Brittany started to gather her stuff, she stopped as she sat up. She held it up, they both looked at it. The gun that shot their Father.