I remember when I was younger, my mother used to sing me to sleep when I thought there was a monster in my closet. She'd sing lullaby versions of songs like "Carry On My Wayward Son" or "Staying Alive" until I was curled up in her lap, snoring. She sang every night, until my seventh birthday. That night was the worst of my life.
I was laying in bed, staring up at my ceiling when I heard the front door crash in. My dad started shouting, telling my mother to come and get me and my brother, and to get out of the house. She scooped us up and ran to the back door, but whoever was breaking into the house shot at her. The bullet went into her back and narrowly missed her spine, but it was enough to kill her. Not immediately, though.
"River.." she whispered faintly as I stood up. My brother was crying, him being only three and not understanding what was going on. "Take your brother.. Run as far as you can, okay? Watch after Theo." She pushed him towards me, and I picked him up. I hesitated a moment before running out the backdoor, resisting the urge to drop Theo and plug my ears as I heard my dad cry out and land with a thud.
"Get the kids!" a gruff voice shouted from behind me. My seven year old legs carried me as fast and far as they could, zigzagging through streets and towns. Because it was so late, there were only a few cars. Not many people were out, and those who were either didn't see us in the dark or didn't care. As soon as I was sure no one was following my brother and I, I looked at my surroundings.
"Theo," I whispered, setting him down, "We're gonna go find a phone and call Auntie Jane, okay?" I held his hand as he waddled around a bit, then directed him towards a police station. "Mommy said to always go to the police men." I informed him.
———20 years later———-
Walking through the dark ally, lit only by the dim streetlight a few meters away, Theo and I looked around, knives drawn.
"Why are we still doing this, Riv?" he asked in a hushed tone. I shrugged, but we both knew the answer.
A few years after my mother and father's death, we did research to find out as much as we could about them. Our aunt Jane, who was disabled both mentally and physically, made no attempt to stop us when we tore through her library, searching for scrapbooks and journals. After a few hours, we discovered a picture wedged between two mystery books. The photo was black and white, and featured a younger version of my mother and father, and a few other people who we didn't recognize.
Studying into the matter further, we discovered out parents were part of some kind of group, called The New Order. After that, the trail went pretty cold. We only had a few names written on the back of the photo to help us, and right now we were trying to meet up with one of them.
"River? Theodore?" The voice of a woman made us whip around, and I immediately stepped in front of Theo. The woman stepped out of the shadows. She had auburn hair and green eyes. I couldn't tell how old she was, but she probably wasn't over fifty.
"Who is asking?" I questioned, ignoring Theo's grumbling about how he was taller and didn't need my protection. She stepped closer, and I could see she had a few bloodstains on her tan dress.
"Rosaline Dru." she replied. "You can put those knives down," she added with a small smile, "they won't be of much use against me." Theo and I reluctantly lowered our knives. This was the girl we were looking for, the one with the wide smile standing next to our mother in the photo.
"Yeah, okay." Theo said, stepping around me. "Do you happen to know Jennifer and/or Joseph Pond?" he asked, twisting the knife absentmindedly. Rosaline's eyes widened slightly.
"Why? Are they okay?" she asked, actually seeming concerned. Theo and I exchanged a look, and I shook my head. Her face seemed to fall and her shoulders slumped. "What happened?"
