"Lie together, Die together." That was our pact. Still is. But now, after everything, we can't help but shake the feeling of dishonesty and manipulation. We feel as if betrayal is looming over us, waiting to make its move. Or maybe it's just me who feels like that, I can't really tell anymore. That's what happens when you're in a pack. You forget who you are.
Luckily I know who we are; a bunch of teenagers being led by a kleptomaniac doing what he does best – steal. Every night's the same. Climb out the window, meet in the lot, steal packages off porches and in mailboxes then go home. But lately we've been going off schedule. Stealing farther from home, staying out later, stuff like that.
All because of my older brother Ace. Lately he's been dragging us along on his little heists. First it was the stands at the market, then the gas station, and now the corner store. Ace says that 'nobody's gonna miss that stuff' but I know that's not's the case. He's doing it for fun. Just like me. The adrenaline you feel when taking something that you know you shouldn't is like a mix of worry and excitement.
At first you feel like you're going to get caught but then when you don't you're proud of yourself. And then you want to do it again, to prove you're good enough to get away with it more than once. It feels great at the moment but afterwards I begin to regret everything. And yet I still keep going. I think I'm becoming a kleptomaniac too. Just like Ace. Just like Mom before she passed. The only difference between Mom and Ace is that Ace is trying to show off where Mom was trying to quit.
I took a step back from my thoughts and sniffed the air – cigarette smoke and a bit of rain. I looked across the dark parking lot trying to pinpoint where the smell of cigarette smoke was coming from. It was small sedan blazing down the street towards us. The car halted to a stop alongside the curb, One of Ace's friends got out of the car and silently judged the group. He was tall and slim with a glove of tattoos and striking green nail polish. I gave him a little wave then immediately wished I hadn't.
He ignored me and instead leaned in and whispered something in Ace's ear. Ace's eyes went wide and I knew it was something big. Something bad. Ace glanced over at the rest of us with a hint of worry in his eyes. They walked a few meters away and resumed their conversation. I had no idea what they were talking about but Ace didn't seem very content about it. The way he was standing – his hand gestures mostly – screamed unhappiness. He was picking at his fingernails, which was never a good sign.
I couldn't stand it anymore. Ace was keeping secrets. Only as I walked closer could I hear the subject of their conversation. Something about Ace joining their gang. I walked over to them and told Ace's friend to back off. To find some other jerk who can fill the position. His response was to blow a steady stream of cigarette smoke at my face. It stung my eyes and I couldn't see. So I pushed him. In the middle of the parking lot, on a school night, in front of our friends.
Ace's friend didn't seem surprised though. All he did was look at me then roll hid eyes. Then he did something I didn't expect. He punched me in the face. I remember staggering back and the collected gasps coming from all our friends. I got that coppery taste in my mouth and I realized that my nose must be bleeding.
Then it got really loud. They were yelling. Ace was yelling at his friend. Spewing curse words left and right. Telling him what a psycho he was. Then there was a loud cracking sound. I looked up and seen Ace's friend gripping his nose as a stream of blood flowed down his arm and into his sleeve. Ace must have punched him back. Ace's friend threw his cigarette onto the pavement and stepped on it before muttering something under his breath and walking towards his car. I watched as he flipped Ace off and drove away.
I turned towards Ace, he tried to apologize and ask if I was okay but I wasn't listening. Instead I wiped the blood off my nose and onto my sleeve. If these were the type of people he hangs with I did not want to hear his voice. A friend that hurts your family is not a real friend. I got an adrenaline rush similar to ones I'd had the moment I would snatch a package off of someone's porch. The only difference was, that adrenaline was mixed with excitement; this one was fueled by anger. Lots of it.
I didn't want to start a full out brawl in the parking lot so I did the next best thing. I yelled at him. I told him to stop. That what he's doing is stupid. That Mom would hate him for what he'd become. That he was hurting himself – that he was hurting me. In the corner of my eye I seen Ace's friend's cigarette, all burnt out and lying on the wet pavement. That's when I went silent and started to cry.
It was me, I was being dishonest. I was being manipulative. I was being selfish. I wanted Ace to stop because I wanted to stop. But I knew Ace wouldn't approve. He's too caught up in the game. So I tried to pull him along with me. Pull him away from his friends. I was betraying him, breaking our pact. I did lie, but we didn't lie together. I ran away from him and wiped away the last of my tears.
I sat down on the cracked pavement and thought of all the years of sleep we must have lost going on our stealing sprees. Of how many times I could've said something but didn't. How many times I could've done the right thing. How many times I could've walked away. All the mistakes I made. All the mistakes I let him make. He's my brother after all. And no matter how different we are I still have to take care of him. Because that's what siblings do. They take care of each other.
I turned back to Ace, ready to face him – to tell him how I felt. To tell him the truth. But when I looked at his eyes I realized I didn't have to. He already knew. My tears came back as Ace slowly walked over and pulled me into a hug.
"I'm really sorry Hailey. Please, don't cry. Okay?" I smiled as i hugged him back. He heard me and he loves me. And no matter how many mistakes he'll make, I'll always love him too.
(Part 2 coming soon)
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Lie Together, Die Together (really short-story)
Short Story"I wiped the blood off my nose and onto my sleeve. If these were the type of people he hangs with I did not want to hear his voice. A friend that hurts your family is not a real friend."