Defying Death

Chapter 1

Do you want me to start from the beginning? Yes, you read that right I am still alive; no I'm kidding I'm writing from my grave.

No, I'm kidding again, I was to die but I'm alive.

You see, that date means everything. Normally, you have this whole ceremony and then go to the doctors so you can get a check-up and die peacefully. But of course, that didn't happen to me, nothing goes right in my life. Let me summarise for you.

First, I was born at the side of a road.

Then when my dad learned that, I was a girl he left us.

Next, in the beautiful story of my life, I was actually blessed with a beautiful 'sister'; we don't know the dad as at the time my mum was working as a prostitute.

Only this is a miracle cannot happen, so the next thing you know God decides to sends my mum's ex down to find her.

He is so abusive that in the end my mum just kills herself. Leaving me at 11 to defend me and my 3-year-old sister alone. Normally you would say where your relatives are your grandma and uncles or even nuns. I would say where the hell are you living, poor to the ditch homeless orphans don't get help. That is unless you want to be caught by the police and brought to the nearest 'orphanage'. An orphanage is also another word for letting us see if you are pretty or strong enough to get into the black market. A place, where they separate family dray the youngsters to the government where they are fed until they are old enough to work in the military or kicked out.

Therefore, why you may ask that I didn't let them take my sister, Beatha. See, she has a clubfoot and they don't let the 'unworthy' live. No matter what the stamp says on our collarbone.

The only person that has ever helped in my life is Flavius, what weird name right. It's from some old famous dude called William Shakespeare. To me, it sounds like Fatius but that's not exactly correct. Flav, as I call him, is or used to be as skinny as a twig now that the government has been fattening him up he is all muscle. Sadly, he was assigned to the government and does some secret military stuff. I was assigned to sewer duty, which is just cleaning the toilets and helping with the sewer system. As I am the low of the low, I have the duty of the pubs, so I don't only clean the toilet but vomit too.

Our lands have more than 15 pubs that are registered. There used to be another 'muddy' as they call me, but she was a year older than me and her date passed so she died. Like you normally are supposed to do.

Now the reason I didn't go is that my now 9-year-old sister has a horrible sickness that has caused a fever, a cold and she keeps vomiting everything up. I know that she needs medical attention ASAP, but of course, I can't do that because she isn't registered into the system and if she was that would mean her being taken away from me. Now that I have poured my whole heart, brain and other vitals out, I can continue with my life.

***

I trudged along the muddy path that led to the shelter that I had spied while on 'muddy duty'. It wasn't the best but it would suffice to help us keep dry in the pouring rain and out of the eyes of the government. Beatha was sleeping in my arms, her body was scarily light, lighter than it should be as if she was a feather. I looked down at her body. She had a petite frame and was shorter than average. Her beautiful locks of caramel brown hair clung onto her head as dripping hair does on skin. Her cheeks usually rosy were so pale that you could see the small number of freckles that were sprinkled onto her nose, her skin had a deathly yellow glow. Her cheeks were hollow and her cheekbone and jaw were so prominent that they looked sharp enough to use as a toothpick. Her clothes that consisted of a large t-shirt and small pants that were probably for a baby, they were so used that they had small rips on the seams and lots of stains.

After poking around the place I found the brick wall with the crevice and with a bit of prying at the loose bricks I made a big enough hole so that it would fit both of us cozily. I placed Beatha inside and put the thin blanket that I had found in the bin a month ago at the rich part of the city. I rested my head on the edge and looked outside at the shadows. I let the pitter patter of the rain soothe me to sleep.

Before my eyes closed I saw a shadow approaching our hiding place. Wait, what. I propped myself on my elbow ignoring the digging of the rubble. The earthy dust smell and the mould mixed together was making my head all fuzzy and I couldn't think properly. I couldn't see anything. Duh, I don't have night vision. A figure was approaching making no attempt to muffle their lumbering footsteps. The person bent over our small hole and peered inside. Since my eyes were already adjusted to the dark I could see that it was an old woman with a wrinkly sun hardened face. She was wearing a dirty cloak and was squinting her eyes. I felt that she was no threat, just another traveler in need of shelter.

"We can share".