Evanesce (minor reconstruction)

2. Sweepers

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"I'm sorry! Give me until tomorrow, I'll have your money I promise!" Ana rolled her eyes as far back than she thought humanly possible at the pathetic man crumbling in front of them. 'People should really look at themselves when they cry, if they could see how ugly they looked, maybe they would stop.' She thought to herself.

"Mate, I think that's long overdue now." Menacingly grinned Jack, keeping a firm hold of the man's shirt in a tight fist. He always enjoyed the dramatic scenery, anything that appears in his sadistic imagination.

"Jack, just leave him for the sweepers already, I need a shower." Ana huffed, gazing down at the smaller splats of blood on her black army boots. No longer was she the young girl with curly, light brown hair. She didn't smile as often now, and all of the floral skirts and summer dresses she owned was replaced by black. Black jeans, tops, shoes, even her hair - now black. A full fringe covering her eyes, ironically as if she didn't want to be seen by anyone. As the life she once had before started to fade, so did she, for so long that she eventually became a shadow of a girl she envied before.

"W-what are the sweepers?" The man whimpered questioningly, taking a glance over in Ana's direction. Peeking through the small gaps of hair from her fringe, she tossed her feet from the desk and slowly began walking towards the nervous wreck. She hunched over slightly, just so her face was close enough to stare him square in the eyes.

"The sweepers?" The black haired girl raised one eyebrow and paused for an effect. "They clean up after we finish the job. You know - get rid of all the evidence." She spoke with a simple wink as her lips tugged upwards into a smirk, satisfied with the persona she kept to match her appearance. The cries of the man knowing what would happen next, began begging and crying for a release, believing that the two were somewhat more empathetic than they came across.

Strolling away, Ana stole an apple from the fruit bowl before grabbing her black, leather jacket, swinging it over her shoulder and waited for Jack to finish the job outside. Flicking the switch on the key, Ana took a seat in the driver's side and stared ahead at the road in front of her: taking out another chunk of the apple, she chewed it down. Only mere minutes later a figure of Jack appeared in the rear view mirror, he took his seat in the passenger side and threw a greedily full duffle bag into the back seat. Nothing was shared but an eyebrow raise from Ana's curiosity as she bit off another mouthful of the apple and threw the rest across on the open road.

"Job done," he cheesed back, pleased at his own work. Nothing else needed to be said as the engine geared up, igniting the car and roaring up to life at a touch. It seemed like over the past two or so years, Jack's eyes grew darker and his smile no longer true. He was almost twice the size he was before, from a small, well-pampered pre-teen boy he was to a six-foot-something, broad shouldered young man. Puberty did him good as a razor would now be of use to him and his once shaggy, dirty blonde-brown hair was taken away and his hair remained short overall.

Two years into the job made you sort of what you would call 'heartless'. But the type of heartless you may think of is leaving your friend behind when being chased by a pack of wolves, the type of heartless the pair became was: shooting your friend in the knee caps to ensure you of your own safety. Both of them would pull a gun to a man's head, a knife through a woman's throat without as much as a battered eyelash. And these could be the ones with children, a family. Though the job couldn't ever be considered 'enjoyable,' Ana and Jack found that they could lighten the situation by pretending to like what they did. In truth, though, the only way to get by was to force themselves to feel absolutely nothing at all. When it came down to reality, they didn't want to admit it but there really was no way out. Never was there as much determination as there was to prove him wrong. Out of all the things that was wrong with the whole concept of turning someone into a psychopath, taking away a childhood was the worst thing to do. Corrupting thoughts and making them believe that imagination and hope is useless was a dangerous thing to do to a growing adult. By alienating them into a completely new surrounding allowed for a stronger sense of obedience. But one thing they could never take away from a child is the compassion for those held closely in their hearts. When every other life became as insignificant as an ant, the need for love and acceptance only grew stronger amongst only hostility that was shown. Anyone would do absolutely everything in their power to keep alive the only people who gave them reason to breathe. So there they stayed, in a shared home on the very outskirts of an almost deserted village, in fear that the last piece of their old self would be destroyed too - family.