When it rains in the desert

Letters from Celia

Okay so, I think now is a good time to start talking about my uncle. I know you know who he is but I still deem it necessary to talk about him. I hadn't met him until I was 14, I'd never even heard of him before until my parents were packing our bags and telling us we had to live with him. Another unpaid debt. My father said we owed him this because of the life he'd given us. My mother just watched him.

I don't talk a lot about my mother because I don't have a lot to say. She was a beautiful woman, if the drugs hadn't made her such a bad person I think I could've cared about her. I think she tried to care about us but when it mattered she was never there. I have a vague memory of me and Carter being around five and her singing us to sleep but that's as good as it gets. My mother was always either passed out on the sofa from being drunk or getting drunk so she could pass out on the sofa.

Anyway, from what I gathered my father had double crossed my uncle and stolen a load of drugs from him so he could sell them. He couldn't pay him back so he did what he always did. Used his kids. I haven't seen my parents now in almost 15 years.
When we were taken to my uncles place, he'd told us that everything would be okay, he'd told us that he would look after us. And for the first few years, he was true to his word. He fed us, clothed us. He got us both tutors to make sure we were "educated enough to go out into the real world." Me and Carter were so sure that we would be okay.

One night we were about to go to sleep and Carter began showing me that he could finally do all of his times tables by heart. He was so proud. I was so proud. I'd never thought that we would get the opportunity to actually get somewhere in life. As far as we were concerned, our lives were going to consist of hiding from our parents and then cleaning after our parents.

Neither of us cried the day our uncle took us away. We were so used to obliging when our father told us to do something. We knew what would happen to us if we didn't. We had the scars to remind us.
We practically owed everything to our uncle, he treated us like his own. He taught us how to fight, how to defend ourselves. He taught us how to negotiate and speak up for ourselves. He taught us both how to use a gun and how to throw knives at a target and never miss. For him education was the most important thing and because we were 14 years behind, he made us work all that much harder. We thought it was for us, we thought he was doing it all for us but we later found out that it served him better than it did us.

Me and Carter both excelled in our studies. We'd never had this opportunity before, we wanted to take advantage of it. We also knew about punishments and what may happen if we didn't succeed. Although our uncle never abused us, we were still afraid of failing.

I know this sounds like a perfect ending right? I wish our story could've ended here. But this lasted only two years before our uncle decided we had "come of age" we were finally going to serve our purpose and to be honest I can't say I wished I would've stayed with my parents because if I had, I'd never have met you, but I also can't say my uncles place was any better.
-Celia