Rogue

Chapter 1 - The Fall

The gunshots were nothing unusual. Each explosion of sound was no more momentous than raindrops on the tin roof. Leto cuddled her siblings close to her. Brian on her knee, Sera resting on her chest. There was little warmth in the small room, and on such days they relied on each other for both comfort and heat. They felt the fear that emanated from her. Despite their frequency, the noise still brought fear. After what had happened to Aaron – any reminder of death was a sharp blow to them.

“It will be over soon,” she whispered to the children. She felt a pang of guilt for deceiving them like that – she held their trust, but she had to reassure them in some way. Often, the onslaught could continue for hours. The soft glow from the paraffin stove lit Sera’s face. Hardship had already brought maturity to the eight-year-old’s eyes, but still Leto felt obliged to protect her.

Only once the first, burnt-orange threads of light that signalled dawn did the gunfire stop. Sera and Brian were asleep, exhaustion overtaking their fear. Leto had dozed intermittently through the night, stirring at the yells that accompanied the fighting. She woke from the sudden silence. Rubbing the dry crust of sleep from her eyes, she yawned and shifted her siblings. She sacrificed her thin jersey as a pillow for them and moved around to get warm. There was a piece of stale bread that could serve as breakfast, along with some weak tea. She set some water to boil on the stove. Their canister was nearly empty – she would have to fetch more before the taps became too busy. Glancing around at the quiet room, she hugged herself and rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. Steam bloomed from the pot on the stove. Their pa hadn’t returned for the night. She tried to dismiss her fear. It was common for him to disappear for days on end in search of work, returning drunk or high. It was during those times that Aaron would come and care for them. She closed her eyes.

“Don’t think of him,” she told herself. She knew it would only bring her despair. She missed Aaron – the way he would joke to keep their spirits from sinking, would upset Ouma just for fun and sometimes even bring them an extra scrap of food. She shook the thoughts from her mind and sipped some tea. The bitter liquid warmed her as it slipped down her throat. Her schoolbooks lay tattered on the floor. Brian had taken his a piece of charcoal and scribbled over the first few pages of her English notes. Not that she was worried. What use was Shakespeare to her? It didn’t teach her any life lessons or comfort her heart. Brian using it to have fun was more suitable. She piled them up more neatly and peeked out the window. The street was deserted. Everyone was either still celebrating victory, mourning their loss or hidden with fear. Soon, police cars and perhaps journalists would arrive. The shoot-out had been big – the public would play concerned. Newspapers would highlight the violence for the day, but once some bigger news broke it would be forgotten. Politics was a favourite that would fuel gossip more readily than another gang problem. The residents of the area had grown used to the indifference, and would go on with their lives once everyone stopped pretending to care.

With a sigh, she touched Sera’s shoulder. The little girl mumbled as her eyes fluttered open. The long lashes that ornamented them caught flecks of dust that she wiped away with sisterly gentleness. Sera sat up, taking care not to disturb her brother who was still asleep.

“Leto, who’s going to stay with Brian?” was the first thought expressed by Sera.

Leto rubbed her forehead with her hand. The lack of sleep made her head heavy and her mind ache.

“I’ll stay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take him with when I walk you to school.”

“But what about your test?” mumbled Sera. “Isn’t it important?”

Leto shrugged in response,

“I’ll write it on another day. Besides, Ouma might be able to give me work for the day. I’ll be fine. You need to concentrate on your school.”