Fear

Prolog

We were known as the Siamese twins. The name was true enough except that we were not twins. We could pass for twins, but Zach, my brother, was one year older than me. We got this name because we were never apart from each other. We were each other's shadow, not even school could separate us.

As little kids, we had to support each other. Our father ran off with another woman when I was eight and Zach, nine. Zach and I leaned on each other for support and tried to comfort our mother, but to no avail. One day our mom got herself a boyfriend. She spent less and less time with us, and more and more time with her boyfriend until one day she disappeared forever when I was then.

I still remember the day as if it were yesterday.

Zach and I were passing a football to each other on our way home from school.

"Spike!" Zach called to me. "Go long,"

So I went long. I sprinted down the sidewalk looking over my shoulder waiting for Zach to pass me to football. When he felt that I was far enough, Zach threw me the football. I caught it and ran, dogging garbage bins and lampposts as if they were trying to tackle me. I jumped over our three foot fence and threw the football down to the ground.

"Touchdown by Spike Stoddard and an assist by his brother, Zach Stoddard!" I sank to my knees and looked up to the sky and held my hands out, making a very dramatic scene.

Seconds later, Zach came running towards me, jumped the fence, and tackled me.

"Oof. You two timing little piece of slime! Get off of me!" I yelled at him, but tried to wrestle him to the ground all the same.

"I wouldn't be talking, shorty." Zach jeered at me while he sat on my chest and crushed the air out of me. "Say uncle."

"Never!"

"Say Uncle!"

"No!" I punched him in the stomach and while Zach bent over, I shot out from under him and ran into the house, slamming the door.

"Spike!" I hear Zach yell from outside. "You're gonna pay for that!"

I ran into the kitchen to try to get my mom to protect me. But when I zoomed in through the kitchen doors, our mom was not there. Our mom was always in our kitchen when we came home. Her boyfriend would always be flirting with her, and one time Zach and I walked in on them while they were kissing. Well, we ran out of there screaming and locked out door to our bedroom.

Zach rushed into the kitchen. "There you are you little –" but he stopped and looked around the kitchen. "Where's mom?"

"I don't know. She's always here when we come home from school."

"C'mon, maybe she's upstairs with Derek." We started to snigger. Derek was our mom's boyfriend and we only knew too well what they did together.

We went out of the kitchen and started to go up the stairs.

"Mom," I called out. "Mom, we're coming upstairs."

"That should be warning enough." Zach whispered to me and we both started to laugh.

We were outside her bedroom door when I started to count down on my fingers. 3 … 2 … 1 … We burst through the door and both shouted "Mom!" at the same time. But she wasn't there.

Zach and I looked at each other with utter confusion on our faces. If mom wasn't in the kitchen or her bedroom, where was she?

"Hey! Look at this." Zach said as he walked towards our mom's desk. "Look at all this money!"

"Whoa! How much is there?" I asked with my eyes widening. Zach slowly started to count the hundred dollar bills.

"Five hundred bucks!" he said when he had finished counting.

"Five whoppers? Whoa! We could buy a gazillion candy bars with that! Why do you think Mom left it out there?"

"I don't know." Zach's eyes strayed to our mom's closet doors that were open. He dropped the money back on to the table and walked over to the closet with me following him. Zach opened the closet doors wide and we both gasped.

The closet was completely empty. Not a single piece of clothing was in the closet. Empty. Everything was gone from it.

"Check her drawers!" Zach yelled.

We rushed to her drawers and opened them. Empty. We opened the next one and the next. Empty, empty. We stopped and backed up and sat on our mom's bed. We let reality sink in. The money, everything of hers gone, and her not being home with Derek.

"Did … did she leave with Derek?" I chocked out.

"I guess so," Zach said.

We just saw on the bed for the rest of the day and we eventually fell asleep.

It was tough for us. Zach was in charge on how we spent our money, but we eventually ran out. We didn't know what to do when we ran out. We were only ten and eleven years old.

We lived in New York City, and you just don't go knocking on people's houses or apartments asking to be taken in. We didn't want to go to a boy's home for fear of being separated. So we begged on the streets. That gave us just enough money for food, but we were still getting thinner. Then one day, it happened. I got into a fight with this kid who insulted Zach. Even though I was weak and skinny, I was still able to beat up the kid and he eventually ran away.

I was yelling at him that if he ever said anything about Zach again, I would make sure that he wouldn't be able to see out of his two eyes for three weeks. Then they spoke to me.

"Shit kid; that was damn good. You can sure fight."

I whipped around and saw three guys on motorbikes. They looked to be around their mid-twenties and wasn't about to mess around with them. They were twice my size. They wore tight leather jackets that showed off how big their arms were.

"What's your name, kid?" said the guy, who was in the front of the other two and seemed to be their leader,

"Spike," I said trying to sound as cool as I could.

"Spike, eh? How old are you?"

I folded my arms over my chest, "Twelve," I said

"Twelve! You ain't shitting us?"

I narrowed my green eyes and made my black hair fall in front of my face. "No," I said sternly.

"What were you beating up that kid for?"

"'Cause he's an ass - he insulted my brother.

"You got a brother? How old is he?"

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Thirteen," I said.

"Is he as a good fighter as you?"

"He can beat me up, if that's what you want to know."

The leader on the bike grinned. He ran a leather glove through his dirty blond hair. "You know who we are, kid?"

"The name is Spike." I said. The leader just looked at me.

I looked at their bikes. They were old choppers. I looked up between the high handle bars and saw a skull engulfed in flames.

"You're the Hell Gang." I said.

"Right you are, Spike. We could use some fighters like you. Meet u s here tomorrow at the same time with your brother." And they took off on their bikes, roaring into the night.

That's how Zach and I got into the Hell Gang. They were our new family, our new home. They provided for us, but we had to be tough. We turned hard staying with them. They taught us how to steal and swear. They showed us how to use a gun and a switchblade properly. They showed us tactics on how to fight.

We never really caused too much trouble; only when we needed to keep up our reputation as the most violent gang in the city of New York. We found out that most of the stuff was for show, like the heaters and the switchblades that we carried with us. But for show or not, when those other gangs got out of place, we had to show them who's boss – who really owned the streets of New York. This is where my story starts: in a rumble when one gang went too far.

Ok, I probably wont write this for a while until I'm pretty much finished with 'Forever Wanting'. So yeah, don't bug me about to continue to write or whatever… cause I will, just when I'm almost done with my other story. But I wrote this just to let you guys know what will come from me sooner or later!

R&R please!

Mia.