I remember it clearly: the day my sister, Amber, and I's life went straight to hell.
We had gotten home from school when my mom came over to us. "Nikki, Amber. Pack your bags. We're going on a trip." She was pale, and her eyes wouldn't stay still.
"Mom, what's-" I started to ask, but right then, there was pounding on the front door.
"Rachel and Anthony Vargas! Give us the nations!" A heavy-accented voice bellowed.
"Mom?" Amber asked, her amber eyes wide. "What are they talking about?"
There was a crash and the hammering of feet. Our mother knelt down and touched both of our cheeks. "Girls, I love you. Go find your father." She gave us a small push.
My sister broke down. "Mom!" Amber turned and started towards her, but I grabbed her wrist, turn, and fled.
A shot rang out, and the thud of a body was heard. Tears started to come to my eyes, but I shook my head, knowing to save the rest of my family.
We entered the garage where our father was. "Dad." We both ran to him and he hugged us.
"She's dead! Mom's dead!" Amber sobbed.
"Shhhhh," He whispered and petted her hair.
Then Amber was ripped out of our dad's grip. She screamed as a man lifted her off the ground. "I've captured Italy," He spoke into a walkie-talkie. A mumbled reply was heard and the man smiled. He took out a gun and pointed it at our father.
"No!" I screamed and jumped in front of him as the goon pulled the trigger. I felt the bullet ripe through my flesh and I fell to the ground.
"Nikki!" Amber screamed.
The mumbled voice from the walkie-talkie spoke again. The man replied. "Uh, sir? I shot Romano..." The voice roared back and the man flinched. I groaned, holding my stomach. Why wouldn't I just die? Then, I was fine. The agony evaporated and I heard something fall with a cling on the ground. My eyes looked to the floor to see a bullet. What the hell? I thought. My gold orbs then wandered up to my stomach. The shirt was stained with blood, but there was no sign of a wound.
"N-nikki?" Questioned a frightened, confused Amber.
Without replying, I charged the goon, but was swept off my feet. "You bastard! Let me go!" I struggled, kicking and punching the man. He just chuckled.
"Don't struggle, love, or I might have to hurt you." The man's voice had a British accent. Then, he turned to our father, and without saying a word, shot him between the eyes. Amber screamed, but she was hit over the head and her eyes rolled back into her head as she went limp.
"Amber!" I shrieked. No one hurts my sister. Then, an object hit me over the head and the world faded to nothing but darkness