The Battle Siblings- A Cult Saga

Part One. E.B

"Is the Mic on?" What felt like a hundred cameras flashed on me. But it was only one. That and a beeding light.

Everin, Layla, Mint and Eddie were being interviewed in different rooms.

The question still remained, where was Thomas Battle? Where was Peter Battle?
Though, there was one lingering question. One that you could smell like a musty joint, through the air.

"Emily, if you know anything. You have to tell us. Who killed Cindy Battle?" The interviewer was here from Date Line.

I wasn't sure if Mint had broken his silence, as the blame had fell on him.
I could tell everyone knew Mint was lying, covering for someone.
I mean, we all were. But, I had to put on my game face...

"What do you mean? There's no body." I smile and lean back in my chair. A complete poker face. A complete facade.

The interviewer kept pushing.
"You're not denying that she's dead, are you?" The interviewer asks.

"Is she dead? Would it be so bad if she was. Look what has happened! We, Cindy's children being indited for a death that quite possible could be a charade! The real question you should be asking! If she is dead, how do you know if you're not interviewing the killer... This. Very. Moment!" I snapped.

The man in a suit, behind the camera filming the interview loosened his tie. The lady from Date Line spoke to me.

"And am I- interviewing the killer this very moment?" She asked me.

I smiled, poker face back on.
"You're really looking for an exclusive... About my family. Well I haven't one to give you." My answer to complete this interview was about to take me and my siblings into a month long, off and on again interrogation.

One of us would have to break. And my two brother's missing, would have to be found. My mother- if there was a body would have to turn up!

One of us is guilty! But who?!

"Tell me, Emily, if not about your family! Can we talk about this cult! And the evil women who led it. The evil women who's now dead. Shouldn't we know the heroic yet villainous person who had ended her where she stood?" The interviewer, known as Spice Doyle really thought she hit home.
She thought she could concourse a response. I wasn't gonna give her this one.

"Mrs Doyle, do you know what it feels like to hold a human heart?" I held out my hands as if looking for a bloody organ that should be laying there. Spice Doyle was taken back.

"Do you have something t-to confess, Mrs Battle?" Doyle asked, shakened.
"If you want a story, ask my brothers!" I stand, but I'm stopped out of curiosity, when Spice Doyle says.

"We don't want A story. We want YOUR story. You've seemed to mistaken why I'm here, darling."

My story? No one wants my story. But my Narrcistic ways had me gulping for air. I'd give her my story. But what she's looking for, I can't help her piece that together.

                                ______

There was a time I called Traverse, City Michigan home...
But it hasn't be that way for a long time.
There was a reason I left Michigan, cut ties with my family, and moved to France...
Little did I know how crazy things got in my absence...

8:00 am, Monday. December 3rd

A lot of my friends back home would text me around Christmas Time. I preferred to spend it all in France, with Jimmothy and his sister Margot.

But still the texts came... Just like they did my sophomore year when I had to drop out. For Reasons I don't want to get into right now!

I didn't finish my highschool education till about two years ago when things settled down. Till I knew I was away from... Her.
Cindy Battle.