CHAPTER ONE: Bonnie and Jo

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I fiddled my fingers as I stood at my dad's door step. I was going to finally meet him today. I only wish that it was under different circumstances. My fist hovered over the wood as the rain soaked my red curls.

My mum told me stories of his abusiveness and how that's why she left. He didn't want a daughter. He didn't want a freak. He just wanted a normal son so he took Harold.

She was one of the mysterious forty-three mothers who had a baby on October 1, 1989 at the twelfth hour despite not being pregnant at the beginning of the day. A billionaire named Sir Reginald Hargreeves tried to buy me as a baby but she refused despite Mr. Jenkins's pleas.

I wanted with every fiber of my body to turn back. To go back to Mum and I's quaint two bedroom apartment in Inverness, Scotland. Back to the smell of the bakery where she worked and walk with her one last time on the auld streets of our daily strolls while she told me about the buildings' rich history and culture. She seemed to have a story for each crack in the walls and rickety step. Life was so perfect.

Why'd you have to die? I pushed the thought to the back of my mind before it could cloud my vision and blinked away my feelings. I looked back to see if there was a chance that the taxi was still there but it had long since sped off. I chewed on my lip and let the rain pour down.

I didn't want another life, but having no other family, I didn't have any other choice so I was sent to live with Mr. Jenkins in the United States. Harold was at least my age. He was actually born the same year on the same day but at the seventh hour, but at least I'll have someone there with me.

I was trembling as I faintly knocked at the door. There was no response so I took a calming breath and reluctantly knocked with a little more force. I heard a man yelling and instantly wanted to run away and track down another taxi but I had nowhere else to go. A scrawny boy answered the door. "Are you Harold?" I asked cautiously.

"Ye-Yeah. That's me. Who are you?" His voice quaked. He looked worn-out with his red eyes and slouched shoulders.

I smiled. "I'm Cameron. I'm your sister." He smiled back.

••••

Two years later...

Dad threw the empty beer can at the door beside us. We held each other tightly in our arms, our nerves jumping with fear. "Why isn't there another beer in my hand?!" We scurried to get him one out of the fridge but by the time we got back he was passed out asleep.

I cautiously inched closer and snapped my fingers in front of his face. He didn't so much as stir. Drunken coma. "Hey, now's our chance! Get our money, we gotta go now if we're gonna make it. Nash!" I whisper-shouted.

"Got it!" he whisper-shouted back.

We bolted to the bus heading to the city with big smiles on our faces from the adrenaline rush that flooded our veins with our rebellion. "Hold on a second," I told him as I shape-shifted my appearance into that of an adult to avoid suspicion.

We thudded up the steps. "Two tickets please."

The gruff driver looked down at my brother then up at me. "Cute kid."

I pinched his cheek and he swatted my hand away. "The cutest." I chuckled.

We giddily walked down the bus isle, high-fiving every seat as we went until we found two seats next to each other and plopped down. "We did it!" Harold exclaimed in triumph. I'd never seen him so exhilarated.

We both fell asleep to the rumbling of the bus, leaning on each other until we were startled awake by its sudden stop. In a few hours we had arrived at the large gate of the Umbrella Academy holding the famous Umbrella Academy coat of arms.

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