ROBBERS ➳ c.h

ROBBERS

I hated hospitals. I've always fucking hated hospitals. They care way too much, but at the same time they don't give a shit at all. The tears. They were pouring down my face like an endless river. My skin. My dirty, blood covered skin, so hot, yet I was shivering anyway. My hair, probably looking like I haven't brushed it in two months, but I didn't care. I had it tied behind my head in a messy pony tail, because I needed it off my face for now. The nurses were staring at me in confusion, not exactly sure if they should pity me or not. Of course they knew who I was, everyone knows who we are.

Before tonight, I was certain things were going as we had planned. The way we set this up, the six of us, we were certain this was going to go the way it needed, as long as we kept to our one simple rule. The rule that has managed to stop us from getting caught, from stopping us from getting killed and more importantly stoppng us from going home. That one simple, yet important rule.

Never look back.

And we never did. We never intended to, anyway. 

Before senior year, back in year eleven, Ry and I always dreamt of running away. The thought of distancing ourselves from this stupid place calmed us. The thought of leaving our over exaggerating parents and pressuring school was enough to make us text about it at 2am with the hugest smiles on our face. But it was always just a dream. We knew that. We knew that one day we'd have to quit the drugs and the cigerettes and the alcohol, we knew we'd have to start actually thinking about our future, but honestly, I didn't want to. I'd rather die than turn more than forty years of age. I never wanted to see myself grow old with children and a bad office job. I never really wanted a job anywhere. I wanted to stay seventeen forever. The thought of growing up without a choice was depressing and nerve wracking and caused me so much stress thinking about it. 

When me and Calum noticed each other for the first time it was strange. Well, I guess it was more like the second time because once in year 8, the year 9 girls told me the boys and girls shared the school toilets and sent me into the boys toilet. I was young and vulnerable and needed friends, so I listened to them. What I saw was enough to never speak to my neighbour ever again. His penis was tiny but definitely big enough for me to spot before I let out an ear piercing scream mimicking his own. We never spoke afterwards. Not once. He became the the social outcast along with his three friends, and I was somewhat just there. Ry and I were the sort of people to not talk to others, but we were never hated by anyone. Anyway, it wasn't until the second day back during semester two and I was sitting on my back yard shed roof, smoking a rolled cigerette and watching the night sky that Calum and I made contact again. I could hear him fighting with his parents again. He always fights with his parents. Sometimes it's big things like they've found pot in his bag, and other times it's smaller like he didn't do the dishes the night before -Either way, they were always fighting. This one particular night, he didn't just jump the fence and walk down through the dried up river behind our houses. No, this time, the moon must have been shining a different direction because apparently he noticed me. He stared at me, stunned, and I stared back, both of us not exactly sure where to go from there. Then he jumped the fence and kicked a stone that was sitting on the ground. It was a vague, silent notice, but it was definitely there, and it was a lot bigger than we both intended it to be.    

Calum became my rock. He became my warmth and my courage and my ability to do whatever the hell I wanted when I wanted to do it. I became his too. We didn't really know that of course. We never really pressed on it, and I guess maybe we shouldn't have taken it for granted before it was too late. 

Through out the journey we've been through, the long, agonizing yet excitement filled joy that I've felt through out the last few months was enough to make me feel like i've lived life to the fullest. Who cares about our health, or our social scale? Who cares about the law, and the feelings we feel and the police and the doctors? Who cares? Not the six of us. Because people like us, we don't care. We're sociopaths of our own mind, the killers and the destroyers of the lives others call peace. We're the ones people are afraid to run into. The ones that have satan on speed dial. 

Why you ask? Well because, we are the Robbers.