Perilous

Chapter 18

I kept thinking back from when I was a little girl, trying to remember anything from my childhood. I only had blotches left in my mind of the past, some of how my parents looked and how we'd play in some park in a place agonizingly unknown to me now. I tried blocking everything out around me so that I could remember anything about Jamal, though the only thing that came to mind was the same exact thing, a reoccuring dream I've always had: Jamal grabbing me by the hand getting me away from the city because a war was in place. But there were always screeching noices that played in my head. I'd remember telling Jamal about this memory, he always told it was the cars crashing into one another, a sound I'd never be able to forget because it was such a terrible moment I lived through. But now I know they weren't cars crashing into one another, or tires sliding along the road trying not to crash into people, vehicles. The irritating screeching noise was a woman's scream. My mothers deadly scream. I can suddenly remember that when she was screaming, she was telling me it's okay to go with him, that I had to. I didn't ever understand this part of the reoccurring dream, but now that I know what it all meant - the cars crashing, buildings on fire, my hand being ripped away from my mothers, I didn't want to understand. I wish I never did. 

I walked out of the balcony I was sitting at and walked over to the small table next to the king sized bed, grabbing the files that were set on top of it. I already knew what was in it from yesterday, but I had yet to feel anything towards it. I felt a little numb, confused. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react. Shock has been taking over me and I am just now realizing that. Moments passed and I found myself back at Jamals file hoping I'd get something more out out of it, re-reading the information. 

                                           United Kingdom Govt. File 05: Jamal Malik Haasan  

Charged on multiple accounts of murder.
Thefts [In and out the UK area]
Assaults [No recorded count]
Kidnapping [In and out the UK area]

Haasan. His real last name, we didn't even share a last name together anymore. We never truly did. I noticed how each file about him and about me, the United Kingdom was placed in bold letters in the corner of each page. The files were formed in the UK, which had to of meant both of our lives were lived in the UK. Not the states, not what Marshall now owned. I couldn't believe what was happening, Jamal had even lied to me about where we had come from. I couldn't go on reading more about the crimes he's committed, the page could barely fit the long list of things he had done in his lifetime. But the next few pages about him talked about the most recent crime he committed, which now was more like a history ago. Yet they looked important. The pages had different colored stamps, from different countries. This crime had been the most important he had ever committed. Jamal had stole a young girl from a wealthy family in the United Kingdom. But the family had more to it than just its wealth. It went on telling how the little girl looked, the millions she was worth. The names she was under were organization with names I couldn't dare pronounce. Breaking my heart with each word I read, I still turned to the other pages regarding more information on this girl. On me.  

United Kingdom Govt. File 12: Amira Anna Petrov

Guardians: Natalia and Albert Petrov

Background: Russian-Serb. 

Under the protection of the Euro-Russian Mafia. 

The man who I've grown up with, put all my trust in, isn't who I thought he was. Jamal was never my brother. He's nothing but a criminal who stole my life from me, literally. I threw the files back into he room making them scatter all over the floor. I just couldn't go on reading the rest about myself, my head began throbbing thinking more about the files. Nothing made sense to me anymore. I didn't know what my true identity was. I started to get irritated, who the fuck am I? I then suddenly began to think of all what Marshall had to say last night, how kind he was to me. How relieved he was to see me. But something ran through me making me remember everything he had ever done to me. The things he had caused. The pain. I looked at Marshall from the balcony I was still seated at on the black braided chair. He was asleep on the couch, slightly snoring. He suggested that I take the bed last night even though its both of our room now. But I guess neither of us really knew what this thing that we had going on was yet.