Whattup With The Bleached Hair And Giant Brown...
The risk of getting too big and too hard to hide, had always been a problem. If this ever happened, we were told to play the part of scared captive kids, who were being held for interrogation by the Organization.We were questioned by the "experts" in the ATF, FBI, and Department of Homeland Security. We had dummy identities so two runaway orphans, who had escaped from an orphanage two months before.After about forty-eight hours, we were released to the welfare system, where we were put in a foster home.Our foster parents, the Ardens, were a couple who lived on a farm in Iowa, with two kids of their own. The father raped me almost daily, and my brother, Eric, was worked from dawn to dusk, as their personal slave. They threatened us with lame consequences, if we told anyone.We could have killed both of them any time we wanted, of course. But that wasn't our instructions. We were to lay low for a year. Any remnants of the Organization would contact us by then. If no one does, we're on. What was I? Fourteen? Sixteen? My thoughts raced and I waded through the memories to make sense of my surroundings.This was the Davidson’s house. I was babysitting. It had to be the year I was fifteen. Amy Davidson was eleven - still in need of supervision when her parents went out at night. Amy was the result of a second marriage. Dr. Davidson had left his first wife to marry his nurse or secretary or something and Amy was their child. The Davidsons went to all kinds of functions in the evenings. This had been a great way to make money before I was old enough for a “real” job. Amy really wasn’t a lot of work. We mostly watched MTV and just hung out while her folks went to charity or work events.“Oh, my God,” I uttered aloud this time as I looked more carefully at the reflection in the mirror. The fifteen year old me looked back. Visions and memories flooded my thirty nine year old brain.I would have just finished my freshman year, I thought as I studied my lightly tanned skin and.
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