Wild Desperation

Chapter 1

                                                    Sang

I remember the day the bomb went off, I should since it happened in the same building my father worked in, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself here so rewind a bit I guess. I didn't have the best life as a kid, the woman that raised me was bitter and awful, the abuse started when I was five, I didn't find out that we were of no blood relation until much later. I suffered in that house for seven years, a tiny town in South Carolina that held no significance to anyone, until the day that it all began. 

It had started off a normal day for me, waking up early to make breakfast for my 'mother' and 'sister' despite the bruised ribs I had at the time. I had slipped my 'mothers' medication into her food hoping she would at least eat it this time, since she was far less violent with the drugs in her system. I remember giving her the food and escaping her room as she threw a lamp at me, narrowly missing my head as I ducked away downstairs to get ready for school.

 I was nibbling at a burnt piece of toast when Marie first turned the TV on, that was the first time I heard my sister swear inside the house. The reason why she risked 'mother' hearing clearly displayed on the screen, a bomb had gone off at the building my father worked in, seeing it in flames struck fear into me. I left the toast forgotten as I stood at Marie's side sharing a terrifying moment with her, the first and last time we were even close to equals in that house of horrors. 

The phone ringing broke our silence and I remember reaching out my tentative 12 year old hand and answering it with a shaky 'hello', the relief at my fathers voice was palpable. He called to tell us he was alive, I remember him saying that some crazy scientist had blown up the genetics lab after his wife had died, killing himself and two others, leaving many injured but alive. The news didn't even mention his name, to them he was just another suicidal crazy person that took his life in desperation, it happened. 

The story only aired for that day, school got called off and we all just sat in front of the TV until my father came home and joined us, looking as if he had aged by years instead of hours since I had last seen him. Little did any of us know that this one mans desperation would lead to our very own. The next day everything seemed to be back to normal, my father went in to work, my 'mother' was awful as always and Marie was ignoring me.

I went to school, keeping to myself as was normal for me and then I went home on the bus to make food for everyone that night. I remember making spaghetti and how when my father did not come home to eat it my 'mother' put the blame on me, leaving me with yet another fresh set of bruises and an empty stomach as I headed up to bed. It was early morning when my father returned, not unusual for him, what was unusual was how he came into my room and shook me awake in those early darkened hours. 

I remember rubbing the sleep from my eyes as he tossed me a black backpack and told me to put everything I could inside, that we were leaving and we were never coming back. I was confused but I didn't argue when I saw the urgency in his eyes, instead I went about stuffing the backpack with as many clothes as I could, tossing in a few shoes as well. I got dressed into jeans, a t-shirt, and my black jacket, slipping on a set of tennis shoes before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs.

 I found my 'mother' and Marie in the living room, each with a bag of their own. I remember my father ushering us all into the packed car to the protests of my 'mother' and 'sister', only growing more confused at the sight of camping gear and loads of supplies inside. The night that we left the quiet little town I had grown up in, the world was asleep, unaware of what was coming, peacefully unaware of what had begun. I dozed off and on as my father drove, I saw some determination in him but at the time I wasn't sure what it was for, even now there were times I still wondered about that first day.