Three Weeks Later - December 12th. 2015
ANASTASIA'S POV:
Issue.
An important topic or problem for debate or discussion.
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I have an issue. Not just any issue, but an issue I didn't know if or how I could solve. I pride myself on being able to solve problems for my gang, for my friends, for my children, but for myself as well. And now, I don't know if I'll ever be able to resolve said issue.
For the first two weeks in my training sessions with my brothers they all continuously tried to improve their skills. Each day spent training them hadn't gone to waste because they were all learning something new and excelling at the classes they had only begun a few short weeks earlier.
However, everything began to go downhill around a week ago. Things have began to fall apart quicker than ever expected from anybody in our inner circle. We've been having more run-ins with all of our shipments from the police, which can never be a good thing.
With the continual rise of our gang that is coming back stronger than ever before, rival gangs have also been trying to infiltrate and subtly send us to our deaths, leading us to have quite the large amount of casualties from the other side. Our side, however well prepared we are, there have been deaths and serious injuries inflicted.
We've been battered from every side, seemingly. We have a mole, there's no other explanation. Wyatt's triple checked our servers and made sure that we're not the ones giving ourselves away.
And so my issue is-
We have a mole.
And I don't know how to fix it.
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The fact that we have a mole, somebody untrustworthy, feeding our information away to others all for a larger dollar amount makes me sick. I try to be fair and equal with everybody I come across, because that is who I am.
But I can't help the nightmares that come in turn with the fact of a mole being known. The last time we were placed in such a situation was when the bloodbath of all our relatives dying occurred. I don't want anyone else I care about to die.
Death is apart of the circle of life, I know that, my friends know that, and we know that in our line of work it's impossible to never experience death.
But at the end of the day- we're still a bunch of sixteen year old teenagers who want nothing more than to be wrapped up in the arms of our parents as they whisper sweet-nothings to us in order to help us feel better after a rough day.
Last time, we caught the mole, the worthless traitor. Last time we won the battle, but it was at the expense of all our high ranking members. It was at the expense of our family, our innocence, our happiness, our joy. And that thought is what scares me the most. That thought alone keeps me up at night.
What if I'm not enough to save my family like the last time?
What if they die because I wasn't strong enough, quick enough?
It's not just myself that I have to worry about. I can't be selfish and run, not this time. This time the stakes are just too high.
This time, I have my best friends (or in other words my adoptive cousin/siblings), I have my adoptive siblings/children, and I have my family's legacies falling upon my shoulders.
It's continued to get harder, as we try and uncover the mystery behind who killed our parents, I've come to grow close to my brothers. I've created relationships with them, and now it's up to me to protect them with everything I have in me.
It's my job as the leader, the boss, to save as many people as I can. I have to make the hard decisions no matter how much I wish I didn't.
Throughout the last week I've been having these troubling thoughts, I've had my brothers teamed up with the toughest team I could think of: Jamie, Kayla, and Layla. I know my brothers weren't excited, and they've quite honestly been pushed past their limits, past their comfort zones, but my girls are doing their jobs and helping my brothers prepare themselves for even a sliver of this world that so desperately wants to eat us all up and then spit us out.
My girls are some of the best, and I know they put their grudges aside. They work to save and protect as many lives as possible. It's who they all are.
It's who we were all raised to be.
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No matter how busy I've been though, I still give the orders around here. I'm still in charge, leading the pack.
I've been having Wyatt try to hack into the police's software along with any of our rival gangs in the area. I need some sort of idea as to who is messing with my gang.
After all, when you mess with my gang, you mess with me. And when you mess with me, you're messing with something incredibly dangerous. It'll only be a small amount of time before someone catches you in your mistakes.
We're not known for being some of the best for nothing.
We catch you by surprise and then destroy you.
It's what we do best.
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A Few Hours Later
I was checking in on Wyatt's progress, finding myself at a spot where it seemed acceptable to take a break. I had finished half of the work I needed to complete by tonight, and so I'd decided rather quickly that I needed a small change of scenery for a few minutes.
I had called and checked in on Luke and Kayla, both of who were now at the gun range teaching the new recruits about our version of gun safety. They were both doing fine, their group was doing fine. After that phone call was done with, I called Layla and Jamie over the phone to see how they were doing with training the moderately-trained recruits with hand-to-hand combat. Layla and Jamie were doing fine, and the group of people were showing progress. Finally, I called Max and we held a small conversation about how many errands he has left to run for the illegal business before he'd be back over to continue helping me with all the never ending paperwork we have.
Knowing that all my friends who were out of the house, were safe at the moment, I sighed heavily and rubbed at my eyes. I am so tired. My brain is on overload, and I could barely comprehend what I was going through on my computer in regards to different meetings and deals I'm setting up.
Deciding that I could have a longer break and still be able to finish my work today at a decent time, I got out of my comfortable rolling chair and moved to exit the office.
I walked down the hall, closing my office door behind me. I gave a quick knock on the shut door in front of me before I heard an almost nonexistent "Come in!"
I opened the door, took a few steps in, closed the door, and leaned up against the framing, my arms crossing themselves over my chest, as I rose an eyebrow and questioned the teenage boy in front of me-
"Wyatt, you get any farther?"
"No. I haven't." Wyatt told me, "But I am almost finished with my sixth cup of coffee. Can you go get me another, please?" he asked me while rubbing at his eyes tiredly with one hand and holding the coffee cup out with his other.
"Yeah, no." I deadpanned, "You need sleep, Wyatt. This is not good for you, this is not healthy."
I sighed heavily, "As much as we need this figured out, go get some sleep. Then you can come back and look at it with fresh eyes. Maybe you'll be able to get farther once you've rested for a bit?", I suggested to Wyatt.
However, Wyatt and I both knew that if he didn't leave to get some rest I would easily take his computer away and force him to his bedroom, where he would get a nap in, even if it was against his will.
"You're probably right." Wyatt sighed.
He locked down his computer, so no one would mess with it while he was gone, before he pushed himself up off his own comfortable chair, and walked over to me.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I wrapped mine around his. My head rested on his chest and his chin laid comfortably on the top of my head.
"Thank you, Ana." he whispered, "I love you."
I smiled up at him before talking quietly, "I love you too, Wyatt. Now go get some sleep, I'll lock the door after I leave."
Wyatt walked out of the room.
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I closed the door behind me and sighed out a breath of despair.
We're stumped, unmoving, unable to get any farther along until we hack into the right severs and get the correct information. Which of course can't happen if Wyatt isn't properly rested. So for now all we can do is wait.
Everything is getting complicated, and I don't like it.
I hate it.
I wish I could go back to the times where life was simpler, where everything was easier. Once my biological parents died everything started building up, and after my adoptive parents died it's gotten even worse somehow. One second I was on top of the world, and the next I'm slamming straight into the hard ground below me, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
My life got crazy and I don't know if I can actually do this. My parents, both sets, think I can. They've made their thoughts about myself and my ambitions very clear.
Something just doesn't make sense in my brain. I can't place my finger on it, but something isn't adding up. And right now, I wish for nothing more than wanting to know what's giving me this gut feeling, this intuition.
I slowly slide down the door, until I was sitting on the floor. I buried my head into my knees, wrapping my arms around myself, as if I was trying to somehow protect myself.
I felt no need to hide it any longer. There was no one here, no one to stop me nor was there anybody to comfort me or give me pity.
The tears began to cascade down my face, and I didn't hide it.
I haven't even been able to cry for my second set of parents, (Miles and Alexandria) yet. I just couldn't find it in myself to cry and mourn for them yet. The war wasn't finished and I need to have my guard up. I don't have time to feel all the emotions that make me human.
But right now, in this moment, I can't help it.
I'm breaking down. It's all just too much, and there's no stopping this war.
Right now in this moment, I'm crying for everything I haven't cried for.
I'm crying for my biological parents. I'm crying for my adoptive parents. I'm crying because of my brothers treating me as if I was nothing more than a piece of disposable trash. I'm crying for the fear that I'll fail my little siblings, that I won't be a good mother figure to them.
Yet, most importantly, I'm crying for the war we just entered.
If we lose, not only will we all be dead and whoever had killed our parents will not have faced any consequences, but Courtney and Dylan will have to face this cruel world without anyone on their side.
And more than anything, I don't want that for them.
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Author's Note -
Here's the twenty-third chapter of "Run-Away Little Sister: Hurting". We're pretty well caught up to the original version. We might be a half of a chapter behind, but other than that it looks like we'll end up right on track.
And in this chapter the stress is clearly getting to Ana. Ana's finally showing her young, teenage self, she's showing that she's human. That she can struggle just as much as any one else.
Let me know what you think about this chapter. And make sure you all comment, vote (by clicking the star), and share this story with those who might like it.
Thanks for reading!
-michaelaloveswriting
Original Version Published: January 1st. 2020
Edited Version Published: June 28th. 2022