Ordinary life

It’s been 6 years since my parents were killed. Exactly today- October 26th. Every year I count down the minutes until it reaches the time I found out they were dead- 7:03pm. At that time I recite every last detail about their death and life beyond to myself. I have school tomorrow so I will explain it now: There was a man called Nicodemus. He was a mentally disturbed man. He lived on a hill on the very edge of California. He suffered from depression and that’s why he decided to live in isolation. My parents were celebrating their wedding anniversary in a hotel not far away. On their last day there they went to a lake by Nicodemus’ home. They spotted him- He did not like attention. When they had enough they began to head back to the hotel.  They got home...yada yada yee. We soon found out by people who had worked at the hotel that at 2 days after my parents left Nicodemus hacked into some computer system about residents and found out all the details about my mom and dad plus the rest of my family. He travelled all the way to Denver and found our address just like that. Except we know longer lived there we were staying with my grandma until all of this blew over. He wouldn’t give up though he discovered my aunt bertha and bribed her to tell him where we were. Of course she couldn’t resist what he had to offer... A 4 story mansion in complete isolation from the rest of California. She told him my grandma’s address and... BAM! He found us killed every adult in the house including my grandma. My 16 year old brother, 14 year old sister and 7 year old me were all hidden in a cupboard in the guest room. He never knew of our existence.  We got downstairs to find not only did he kill my family but he committed suicide too.

The rest of our family decided to never call the police for our godparents were in prison and nobody had the money to be able to care us. That is nobody except Aunt Bertha but we never talked to again so she quickly got the message that we were considered family no more. 

My sister and I were looked after by my brother living on the money Aunt Bertha would send once a month. We never said thank you though just to show much we hated her. I started to attend school again when I was 9 and everything began to run smoothly.

Life was fine until my brother went missing. By then my sister was only 16 and had to work a variety of jobs to make sure we did not become homeless. Everything went downhill from that point. I had to wear the same clothes for two weeks, bills began piling up, My sister started getting fired from jobs because she was turning up late-everything.

We live in a one room apartment now with not one source of entertainment. Angel (my sister) is working as a secretary in a record company (age 20) I started my own car washing business. “Brooklyn’s finest” I call it (get it because my name is Brooklyn and in Brooklyn there are loads of cool cars?). With my team of 2 other people altogether we get around $100 a week and divide it so I get more they get $25 while I get $50. Call it double income, I guess. It’s been hard but we are still alive so...it’s all good!