DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.
Ok just a heads up, when the writing is in bold, it is something that is being thought. Oh and there is some swearing in this.
September, 1999
I stared at the battered house as my parent's old Mazda pulled into the driveway. It was old and had obviously seen better days but there was something about it that I instantly felt akin to. It, like me, looked weathered, exhausted from its years of abuse and then neglect. But where the house showed its hardships on the outside – white painted exterior yellowing, broken windows and sagging front door – I carried my adversity on the inside.
I swallowed down my self-pity and got out of the car. Mum and Dad had been ignoring me since we left Seattle but I didn't really care. As long as their attention wasn't on me I would be okay. I started walking towards the old house when I heard my Dad growl.
"The bitch bit me," he hissed angrily.
I tried to ignore the sudden harsh slap that followed his words. Then a soft whimpering started and I ground my teeth together, balling my hands into fists. I closed my eyes and practically ran inside the house. I didn't need any keys to enter – the door was almost off its hinges as it was.
Glad to be away from my parents for even a few brief moments, I took the chance to explore the house. It wasn't big, having only two bedrooms and a lounge room that was attached to the kitchen and dining. The only bathroom was between the two bedrooms.
"Edward, come and help," I heard Dad shout.
I spun at the sound of my name but I didn't want to go out there. I didn't want to be a part of this. I never had.
Get here now or I'll beat the shit out of you!
I shoved my hands in my pockets and bowed my head. Walking slowly, I took my time so I could bury the guilt and anger deep inside me. I couldn't afford to get angry around Dad; I didn't want a repeat of last time.
As I stepped onto the decaying veranda, I lifted my head and spotted Mum and Dad struggling to control a furiously wiggling girl. My spirit lifted a little as I urged the girl to fight harder but suddenly Mum slapped the girl across the face and I winced. I knew being slapped by my mum was no fun, especially when she wore her wedding ring.
"Get the crap out of the car would you?" Dad said as he lifted the bound girl off her feet, throwing her over his shoulder.
Mum smirked at the girl, who was silent now. "Bite my man again and you'll get worse than that."
I could feel the girl's terrified thoughts press into my mind as I brushed past them on my way to the car. I bowed my head lower, trying to hide from her mind. Of course, it didn't work. I could still feel her fear and panic as Dad carried her inside. Mum watched them as they entered the house before turning to me and sneering.
"What are you looking at?"
I blinked before looking away, my impassive face not flinching. Slowly I began to pull all of our worldly possessions from the boot of the car. We didn't have many, we couldn't afford to. The more things we collected, the more likely it was that we would leave something behind that could be used to identify us. At the moment, the largest thing we owned was a portable television and that wasn't much bigger than ten inches.
I threw the duffel bag filled with my clothes over my shoulder before pulling out Dad's. Mum came over and started to help me. She pulled out her bag and we worked in silence as we unloaded everything. Between the two of us we could carry everything and still have a free hand to close the boot and lock it.
I trudged inside, aware of my Mum's looming presence behind me. I tried not to let her thoughts get into my mind but I really wasn't very good at controlling this curse. A curse that Mum and Dad knew about and used to their advantage.
Once inside, I dumped everything in the lounge room before taking my duffel bag into the smaller of the two bedrooms. I came to an abrupt stop in the doorway to the room.
Dad was tying a gag around the girl's mouth, her hands already tied behind her back and ankles bound together. The girl's eyes were wide with fear as she watched my Dad go about his business.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
The girl's dark brown eyes flew to mine, changing from fear to pleading. I stared at her for a few silent seconds. Pure and agonising guilt flooded me as I listened to the girl silently plead with me, listened as she called for help and ached for her parents. My hands tightened into fists on my duffel bag as I stood, rooted to the spot.
"You will be sharing a room," Dad suddenly announced.
His voice pulled me from the girl's penetrating gaze and I was able to transfer my gaze to his dark blue eyes. I swallowed, unnerved by the girl on the bed. I already hated what was happening but this girl was going to complicate things. She was going to keep pulling my conscience into it and not let me sit back as I always did.
"What?" I said stupidly.
I'd heard what he'd said but the thought of me sharing the bedroom with a hostage was just ridiculous.
"Dad, I can't share a room with her," I said in a horrified voice.
Dad glanced up at me and smiled cruelly. "Then you will be sleeping in the lounge room."
"God Dad!" I cried and threw my duffel bag at him.
Before he could react I was out of there. I knew I'd gone too far for Dad's short temper and I wasn't hanging around for any retaliation. I was out the front door and sprinting down the driveway when I heard Dad shouting furiously after me. I just kept running.
Ten minutes later, my chest was heaving and my side hurt. I began to slow down and take in what was around me. The house we were living in was at the end of a long abandoned street. I hadn't yet come across the neighbouring houses but I knew they were here somewhere. I remember Mum pointing out a garden she liked to Dad in the car ride over.
I kept walking, enjoying the morning sun on my back. It was warm and soothing and I found myself forgetting about everything. For a few peaceful moments, I wasn't the kid whose parents were infamous criminals, wanted in nearly every state, and who was looking at spending a long week sharing a bedroom with the newest hostage. I was just nine year old Edward Mason, mind reader extraordinaire.
A faint smile touched my lips. I liked knowing that I was different, that I could somehow read people's thoughts. It gave me a sense of hope that my life wouldn't turn out the way that my parents had. That I was different to them too.
I was pulled back to reality by the sudden presence of a house. It was only small but someone definitely lived there. I noticed the flower-filled garden around the veranda, its pungent aromas wafting over to me. This must have been the one Mum had pointed out.
A sudden noise surprised me and I quickly dashed off the road and into the cover of trees. I crept closer to the house as a boy about my age ran outside, his dark skin glowing in the sun. He had a skateboard tucked under one arm and a half-eaten apple in the other.
I watched curiously as an older lady came running out of the house, her skin the colour of mocha. She was shouting at the boy, waving something above her head.
"Jake, don't forget your helmet!"
I heard the boy's groan from here and a small smile touched my lips. He turned slowly and began walking back towards the lady, who I was guessing was his mum. As he walked, he threw the half-eaten apple into the forest near me. He was acting like it was the worst thing in the world and when he finally snatched the helmet from her hands he mumbled something I wasn't close enough to hear.
She smiled lovingly at him and ruffled his hair. He grimaced but waved heartily as he jogged back down the path and onto the road. As soon as his feet hit the tarmac, he dropped the skateboard, propped one foot against it and fastened his helmet onto his head. Then without further ado, he set himself up on the board and pushed himself down the street, gaining momentum as he went.
I waited until the lady went back inside before sighing and turning away from the house. Their life looked so carefree. Suddenly I was gripped by an overwhelming feeling burning desire. I wanted that life that I'd never experienced, wished I could feel the loss of something so innocent and trivial, but I couldn't. I never would either.
I knew I could have walked up to that house and told them everything. I could have told them that James and Victoria Mason were hiding out in the house at the end of the road and that they had kidnapped another young girl and were even now holding her against her will. I could have told them to ring the police anonymously and have them come and rescue her and take my parents into custody.
But then I would have been placed in foster care and be shipped all over the States, bouncing from family to family, still not getting the chance to experience a loving household. And as much as I hated my parents and the life that they forced me to lead, I couldn't do that to them. They had raised me, fed me, clothed me, gave me a roof over my head and taught me everything that I know. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here today. I owed them my life and I couldn't repay them by just handing them over to the police for some dream I would never experience.
Slowly, I began the long walk back to the old house at the end of the street, my hands dug deep into my pockets and head hanging low. The sun was still warm but now, instead of soothing me, it hung over me, like an oppressive cloud.
When the house came back into view, I remembered my reason for running in the first place. I swallowed, trying to moisten my suddenly dry throat. I didn't want Dad to be angry with me but I knew I deserved whatever he threw at me. I shouldn't have thrown my bag at him but what was in the past couldn't be changed.
So I made my way into the dilapidated house, keeping my head down but searching out his mind. When I found him, I noticed that my actions were far from his mind. He was with Mum, discussing what they were going to do with the girl.
As I made my way through the house, I began listening to their words as much as their thoughts.
"Well her parents are richer than we first thought so I say we up the ransom," Mum was saying.
Dad sighed patiently. A strange sense of longing tugged at me whenever he did that because I knew he would never be patient with me. I was a nuisance in his mind while Mum was the epitome of perfection. He loved her so passionately and I was the mistake he never wanted.
"Vicky," he said softly. "We have the set amount for a reason. We only take what we need to last us six months and then we hit again. It's how we work baby."
I stepped into the doorway of the kitchen and saw Mum reach out for Dad's hand. She gazed adoringly at him as she gripped his hand.
"But if we get more than normal now we will last longer and it will throw the authorities off for while. After all, we do have an established pattern and if we break it, they might be thrown long enough for us to get to Alaska."
Suddenly she noticed me in the doorway and her loving smile dropping instantly. The familiar scowl returned as she stared at me.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, letting go of Dad's hand.
I swallowed, glancing between the two as Dad faced me too.
"Just around," I said with a shrug.
"You didn't talk to anyone did you?" she pressed.
I leant against the doorjamb, my arms crossed over my chest. I rolled my eyes at her.
"I know the rules Mum," I retorted.
"Don't take that tone with her. She's only thinking of your sorry arse, trying to keep you safe from the coppers," Dad defended angrily.
A disbelieving look covered my face as I stared at him. I was about to reply when I heard his livid thoughts push into my mind.
Find something for the girl to eat and stay out of my sight. I will deal with you later.
I glared at him before slipping off the wall and wandering over to the fridge. I heard my parents leave the room and wrenched the fridge door open in anger. Quickly I found a loaf of bread and a block of cheese. I pulled them out and sliced off two pieces of cheese. I placed them on a slice of bread and topped it off with tomato sauce. I dropped the lid of the sandwich on top before shoving everything back where it came from.
I walked over to the bedroom, hesitating briefly at the door. I had to mentally prepare myself for this girl; she was bound to wind me up again. I was in enough trouble as it was; I didn't need for her to make it worse. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. What I saw made me step back in surprise.
