Into You

I ran, because she couldn't

June 24th.
Five years ago to the day I ran.

I ran away from all the pain and lies and secrets. Though it seems most of that followed me as I fled. Sometimes I wonder whether there was any point in it all. Should I have just stayed? Would it have made a difference?

Would she still be here?

It was a cold morning if I recall correctly. An oddity for a Summer morning, maybe that should have been the first clue.

I'd been living with my twin sister Chelsea for the past 18 months in our great aunt Emelda's house. I needed a place to stay after the whole Maria ordeal with my now ex-fiance Samuel and she needed- well she needed a lot of things to be honest. But the main thing is that we needed each other because that's all either of us had besides Lily.

Chelsea never said what happened, not in detail anyway. Just that she'd "met a guy and it didn't end well". That right there should have been a clue as well, but I brushed it off like I did with all things concerning Chelsea. She'd always been the wild one and I'd been levelheaded. That's how it worked with us. She made a mess and I fixed it. Always.

It must have been around five o'clock in the afternoon when it happened. Lily snuggled in a ball in Chelsea's lap on the couch while I sat on the porch swing.

I heard it before I saw it. The engine hummed loudly before it came to a sudden halt, dust flying everywhere. I shot up out of my seat and crashed into the railing as I leaned over to see what was happening.

It was all so fast. Men in black clothing ran out towards the house. How many there were I'm not sure - I think one had a gun but that could've been my imagination.

All I remember is falling back as one of the men pushed past me. I heard screams. Chelsea's screams. I was a bit dazed but I got up and ran inside the house; tripping on my flip flops as I did. One of the men went straight for Chelsea whilst the others crashed around the house smashing furniture and banging down doors.

I remember the shouting. Me at the men. The men at me. Chelsea at us all.

I remember the fear and the panic and the urgency. The pure need to escape but instead choosing to fight. My fists hammering into the backs of the men. I punched blindly as tears rained down from my eyes and short wisps of my hair swam in the salty rivers that ran down my cheek and neck.

There was no thought to my actions. All of it was instinct and self preservation. I only had two things on my mind: get my family, and get out.

I don't know how long I fought for, not really, I don't remember feeling anything at all. But I do remember having the wind knocked right out of me as a giant fist pummeled my left side from behind.

Then I remember falling and my head bouncing off the oak floors. Floors I had just oiled the week prior. I always loved that floor. And then I heard a smash. I looked without moving my head (for a reason unbeknownst to me at the time) and saw the pristine white China plates-my great aunt had spent the most part of her life collecting- collide and smash into tiny glimmering shards on the ground.

The cries and pleas for help that I had heard fall from Chelsea's lips were silenced. Only Lily's whines continued. I was half concussed but the only part of that evening that I remember in full detail was the blood.

Everything about it I remember. The colour, like wilting red roses; dark and almost glistening. The way it fell - no, poured from her chest. It looked like blotted ink on her pale nude blouse. Spreading across the centre of her chest until it literally leaked down her stomach and dripped to the floor.

Fourteen.

That's how many drops fell to the ground before they pooled together and formed an ocean of scarlet.

Her limp body fell and splayed across the bloody floor. Our eyes met as she gasped out her final breaths.

Ten.

That's how many seconds it took for her to wheeze out a pitiful attempt at last words. It was as if the blood had trapped her voice, imprisoned it within the depths of her blood filled lungs. Her pale chapped lips mimed out two things. A command and a name.

"Don't let...him take...Lily."

I frowned in confusion and whispered, "Who? Who Chelsea?"

Tears fell from her pained eyes and merged with the pool of blood below her.

"Nathan...Bridges," she took one last inhalation and answered the question clear on my face, "Her...d-dad."

She closed her eyes and slept, I'm not an idiot I know hers isn't the kind of sleep anyone wakes from, but in my mind it means she's at rest, at peace.

Maybe it was the fact that I'd lost my twin or maybe it was because I was the only one left for Lily. But something or another fueled me to get up and run.

I collapsed on my first attempt but I kept at it. On my third attempt I got up and crawled towards Lily who was red faced and crying on the couch where I assumed Chelsea had left her before...

The men were busy shouting orders at each other whilst they continued barricading doors down in pursuit of God knows what. All I kept on hearing was, "Find it. Get it now!" and smashing furniture as they ransacked the house.

This was my only chance. For me to leave. For us. I held tightly onto Lily and her blankets I grabbed the car keys that had fallen and hobbled out as fast as I could. I picked up my pace and turned one last time to the sleeping beauty on the ground.

Was that what I would look like in death?

We were identical twins so it was possible. She lay like a porcelain doll, pale and still. I crouched to tuck her long tresses behind her ear and snatched the golden locket that always hung on her neck. At least Lily would have something to remember her by.

I had to leave. The men wouldn't be here much longer. They'd find me and probably silence me the same way they did Chelsea.

So that was what I did. I left. I ran to my car and drove off with Lily.

It was the first time I ran, because she couldn't.