"We'll be back in a few minutes ," He promised, "Just a few things we need to grab from the shop." And with that he left the room, my twin brother, Gabriel, holding his hand.
Back then I would've never thought that was to be the last thing my father ever said to me, nor would I have believed that this would be the last time I'd see my brother for at least a decade.
~~~~~~ 10 YEARS LATER~~~~~~
"Michael, get your ass out of bed," the voice penetrated through my dreams, "The retard is at it again." I bolted up out of bed and rushed out of my room and down the stairs, my vision still a bit blurry. The loud banging noises erupting from the kitchen continued as I entered the room to the sight of my little brother banging the pans and pots together on the kitchen floor, which was now covered in flour. Lisa stared at him with a look of deep disgust and hatred, one I was quite used to, contrasting the huge grin on Micah's face. She stormed out of the room, her sleeping robe flowing behind her and left me to clean up his mess.
"Hey buddy," I smiled, careful not to alert him, "How about we put those away?" He looked up at me, eyes filled with young innocence, and went back to banging the pot with the ladle. I breathed out a sigh and crouched down to face him. "Micah, we have to go. It's time for school." I pleaded with him, and yet he seemed determined to ignore my presence. Once again, I took in a deep breath, and opened my mouth to talk some sense into him, which was when my mother barged in once again. "Get him off my floor," she seethed, rage lacing her every word, "And get your asses to school."
Unfortunately, Micah decided this was the perfect time to charge at my mother, with laughter in his eyes, completely unaware of his surroundings, and wrapped his arms around her. I saw something in her eyes snap, and before I could react, she raised her hand back and whipped it across his face.The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls. Micah stared at her with wide eyes as he brought his hand slowly to his fire red cheek and let out a cry of pain. She appeared dazed and simply left the kitchen, leaving Micah in a sobbing mess on the floor. I rushed to him but not before yelling a string of curse words at the monster I called my mother.
"Let me see buddy," I said, petting his hair soothingly, "It's gonna be okay. You're okay. I'm going to take care of you."
He lifted his head slowly, revealing the angry red handprint on his tear stained face. I cupped his face with my hands and carefully examined the bruising.
"Everything's going to be okay," I muttered as I helped him off the ground, leading him to his room, "I promise."
After a few minutes, we left the house and headed to school. The sky was as gloomy as ever and the deserted streets seemed even dirtier than usual. Micah smiled at me as we walked, having completely forgotten his previous pain, and I shot him a small grin in return. The majority of children in the Wastelands didn't bother going to school, their lives here were never going to get any better so they figure, why bother trying. The only reason the Council even opened a school was give the teachers something to do after being kicked out of Central City, and the only reason Micah and I attended was to escape our grim home. We turned the curb to arrive at the small cabin with the sign, hanging only by one rusty nail, that spelled out "Community School", a
two large, burly men stepped directly in front of us, blocking our path. They were wearing black suits and dark sunglasses
"Excu..." I began, before the man with the dark hair karate chopped Micah on the neck, sending him down, unconscious, and the last thing I saw was the silver bands on their wrists before a sharp pain in my neck dissolved the world into a black abyss.
