Staff Sergeant Boyle claps a solid hand on my shoulder before putting the truck in reverse and backing out of the driveway.
Away from this last nightmarish year of my life.
All I know now is that somehow I have to save Faye. Brad won’t mess with me once I’m a Marine, he doesn’t have the stones. There is no going back now.
6 years later
Faye Cooper
Tomorrow is my birthday. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.
I don't mind that fact one bit. No boys that I know are worth kissing anyway. Nerds or nasty perverts, the whole disgusting lot of them.
Flipping over, I reach under my bed and drag out the old backpack I keep all of my important things in. I’m pretty sure someday soon I'm going to have to take off on short notice. My mom drinks so much these days she hasn't even noticed that Brad has started paying way too much attention to me. The wrong kind of attention. He always tries to find ways to catch me alone. That is why I moved into the tiny pool house across the yard. They don't like it, but they haven't tried to make me move back. I can’t help but think that maybe mom does know about Brad and his wandering eyes and hands.
I know I'm a lot happier with this arrangement.
Reaching into the pack, I pull out the tattered stack of letters I keep inside with my little stuffed unicorn. That, a couple changes of clothes, my birth certificate, some old photos of my mom and dad from before everything went to shit, and an envelope of cash. That is all that I plan to take with me when I need to bug out. I shouldn’t need anything else.
I have a lot of money. I work at the ice cream parlor in town and I babysit as many evenings a week as I can. Plus I have been hoarding lunch money, birthday money and any cash I find in the laundry for several years now. Making a bug-out bag was Travis' idea, and I always trust him to give me good advice.
He hasn’t been back since the day he left for boot camp, but we have been writing letters to each other for ages. He even told me about his grandfather's hunting cabin up in the mountains somewhere out in Idaho. He even gave me GPS coordinates in a letter when we first discussed the possibility that I might need to run away. Not that they will do me any good. I’m hopeless with that kind of thing. He wanted me to be safe and to have somewhere to run to. I’m sure I can find it if I absolutely have to. I just hope it won’t actually come to that. Living with mom and Brad may not be ideal, but I know what I’m facing and I’m not scared. The idea of needing to run away is a bit frightening.
My plan is to head west when I turn eighteen and wait for Travis to finish his tour of duty, and then we can get a place together. He even started sending me money, too. Just in case. He said it made him feel better knowing that I would be able to take care of myself if he wasn’t home to do it by then. Last time I counted it, I had over five thousand dollars saved. That’s a small fortune! I’m pretty sure it’s enough to find an apartment for us. I can get a job waitressing or something until he gets home.
I know he comes back to the states, and I understand why he doesn’t come here to see me, but I sure would like to see him in person again. We video chatted for a while the last time he was back, but he volunteered for something he couldn’t talk about and left not long after. I know his job is important, but I wish I could spend just a little time with him.
Hugging my bundle of letters to my chest, I pick up the picture frame on my bedside table and look at his face. He is so handsome in his fatigues, his blond hair hidden under the helmet on his head, dimples flashing in his cheeks. He is built like the tank he stands next to, all massive muscles and so very tall. I just got this photo last week, and it makes me feel things I have never felt for any boy before. Part of me wonders if that is because I’m feeling them for a man.
I started crushing on him when I was fourteen, and my feelings have only grown as I have gotten older. I want him to be mine, but I know that he only sees me as a little sister, so I’m resigned to that being our relationship. Even though it sucks. I have no doubt that if he doesn’t already have a girlfriend, he will once he’s back in the states. I’ll face that day when it’s in front of me, and I can’t do anything about it.
I’m not about to lose my best friend because I developed a crush on him.
Sighing, I put the photo in its place and tuck the letters back in the pack, and flop over to stare at the ceiling. The music playing on my phone winds down, and that's when I hear it.
I can hear people yelling across the yard in the main house. Not just Mom and Brad either, though I can hear Mom’s shrill voice. It sounds like she is almost hysterical.
I suddenly have a bad feeling. Very bad.
Reaching over, I turn off the bedside lamp and slip my photo of Travis into the front pocket of the backpack. I can’t hear the words, but somehow I know that things are about to change forever. It’s the desperation I can feel in the tone of my mother's voice.
I grab the old Carhartt jacket I took out of Travis’ closet a couple of winters ago when Brad refused to let mom spend money on a new one for me, and slip it on. I slide my feet into my battered Converse sneakers next, straining to hear what is going on inside the house.
I grab my book, my box of letter-writing supplies, and my cell phone, and jam them all in the backpack before zipping it closed and pulling it over my arms. The yelling is louder now. I still can't hear what is being said, but the tone is frantic and when I peak out the side of the window I can see mom and Brad on their knees through the sliding glass door.
I feel a moment of dizziness before a voice inside tells me to run. Mom looks like she is crying. I can see a stranger standing in front of them, pointing a gun at them.
He is big, the biggest person I have ever seen, even bigger than Travis, I think.
He looks out the window and it feels like he is staring right at me, even though I'm hidden in the dark. He moves the gun from Brad to mom, smiling the whole time, and says something as he points toward the pool house.
Shit! I shouldn't have turned off the light! He must have noticed it was on earlier.
I hear my mom’s voice as she screams that it’s on a timer, drawing the stranger’s attention back to her and Brad.
A loud POP startles me, and I watch in horror as Brad collapses in a heap on the cream-colored carpet he has always been so particular about. I can see the blood spreading out over it from here, and a ringing in my ears silences the night.
I watch as mom reaches an imploring hand toward the man. He shakes his head at whatever she says and pulls the trigger. I don’t hear anything as my mother falls beside him. Time seems to stop for a long moment.