#55 - R5

183 20 13
                                    

prepare for long ass scenario im sorry//this is set years from now

I let my bow and arrow drop by my boots as I stepped into the house. It smelt like the candle I lit this morning, along with bread. I proceeded through to the living room where my brother sat staring blankly at the ancient TV. "Peter."

"You're back late." His eyes flicked back to his notebook.

"Yes, I went to hunt something to make you some soup since you're ill, and managed to find a chicken. It'll be ready in a pinch." I said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I suppose." He followed me to the kitchen, lighting the three industrial-sized candles we had along the side, although the sunset filtered a pretty light through the windows. "Rocky stopped by. Dropped off some food he managed to find by the market. Said he wanted to see you."

"He'll drop by later." I gathered cooking supplies as I prepared the chicken. "How was school?"

"It, was." The 14-year-old replied. I set down the knife in my hands.

"Was it those kids giving you hell again? Next time just do this-" I pushed his torso down on the counter and bent his arm back gently whilst a stream of curse words came rolling off his lips. "-it hurts, doesn't it? Finish it with a kick to the groin and you'll have them done."

"Roselyn, no!" He whined and I released him. His water-coloured eyes glared at mine whilst he fixed himself again. I smirked.

"What's up then?" I questioned, tying my hair up.

"There's a girl - Amelia, to be precise." He said. "She's new, and I think I like her."

"Peter!" I exclaimed. "That's amazing!"

It was truly happy for him. Ever since our foster parents threw us out, he felt down and refused to communicate with anybody but me, and eventually Rocky.

We live in the poorer areas of America, the Badlands as the high ballers call it. Whilst our area being poor, it is in the outskirts of the richest part of the country, Washington.

The Badlands is also home to a growing rebellion named The Red Band Army, which wants to take down the Ruling family, or the Lynches. They aren't Royal or anything, but due to being friends with the once King and Queen, who died at war.

Rocky belongs to The Red Band Army, and is also my best friend. I owe him everything, from learning to read coherently to Archery.

Our lives are worth something close to nothing compared to Lady and Lord Lynch, along with their three perfect offspring, Riker, Rydel and Ross who have probably never had to even kill a fly. Their mere presence ticked me off, however the oldest was the worst, carrying himself as if he was superior to everybody else. The two younger ones were kinder, to a certain extent.

I turned around from the stove. "Soup's cooking. Want me to help you out with homework?"

"Sure." He shrugged his shoulders and pulled himself up.

***

It was 3am when I was awoken to harsh banging downstairs, spreading throughout the house. My door swung open. "Rosie! It's them!"

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