I stand at the side of the highway, waiting for a car to pull into the gas station. It seems like I've been waiting in this bush for weeks, in reality it's only been about half an hour, but then I was never the patient sibling.

Finally someone pulls over. I look through the window and see that it's a woman. She looks about 40 , she's got a boy in the back of the car. I don't really want to scare them with what I'm about to do but I'm not waiting in this bush any longer.

I creep over to the gas station and watch as she fills up her car. It's a Honda Civic in blue. Guaranteed it's her husbands, girls never choose blue cars. The boy is in the backseat staring at his phone.

She heads into the store to pay for her gas, I wait patiently for her to come back.

When she does I wait until she's pulled out of the view of the CCTV camera. Wouldn't want my face to get caught on that thing. I step infront of the car and hold up my gun, I'm not insane though I swear. 

She stops and I run for the passenger door. I open it and get in. When I'm in I hold the gun up to her head. She has the exact reaction I was hoping for. She's terrified.

"Start driving" I say.

"Can you at least put your seatbelt on first?" She asks. I do it, keeping the gun held up at the same time.

When it's in and we hear the click she starts driving. This is the first time I look at her. She's blonde with big green eyes. The boy in the back wasn't blonde so I guess her husband's a brunette. 

"What the fuck is happening" the boy asks. 

"Are we heading anywhere in particular?" She asks, ignoring the boy's question.

"I don't care where we go as long as it's not Pennsylvania" I snap.

"I live in Providence" she explains.

"Rhode Island's a long way out."

"Yeah, I was visiting my parents, they live in Pennsylvania. The trip was a bit of a waste."

"Why?" I ask. Not that I care.

"They don't want to accept this guy," she nods towards the boy in the backseat, he's back on his phone. "My parents are homophobic."

"You're gay?" I ask.

"Bisexual actually, but I have a wife and this is our son Luke."

"That's pretty cool." I reply, remembering I used to know someone else who was bisexual.

"So why are you trying to get away, fight with your parents or something?"

"I don't have parents." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says "foster parents then?"

"My foster dad says I'm a waste of space."

"I'm sure that's not true."

If she knew the truth she would not think that. She'd be screaming at the top of her lungs. The boy would probably try and grab the gun from me and they'd be trying a lot harder to call the police. 

"It is true," I reply "we've never got on."

"Do you have any other family members?"

"Yeah, a brother."

"How old is he?"

"Same as me, 17."

"Same age as Luke. Why isn't he with you now?"

That's a great question. Maybe it has something to do with the fight. The one Roman doesn't know about. Or maybe it's the fact that I wanted to take out my anger at our dad on someone. Kailin unfortunately was the person I chose. 

I've always fought with Chris. But then that's not such a change. Ever since Roman and I moved in with him, me and him never got on. He treated us like shit. I treated him exactly the same, which usually made things worse. I still remember the first time we met.

Almost 3 years ago: 

"Yes" he grunted as he opened the door to our social worker.

"Mr Rakowsi?" Mrs Davis asked. He nodded. "This is Roman and Connor."

His expression changed when he saw us. "It's a pleasure to meet you boys. I hope you'll be extremely happy here." He said this in a sickly sweet sort of voice. It made me feel like he's definitely hiding something. He was. 

"And is Mrs Rakowski here?" Mrs Davis asked. There was no Mrs Raklowski. 

"No, she's at work."

"Oh I see, well boys I hope you'll be happy here. Call me if there's any problems."

"I'm sure there won't be" Chris said and he moves aside to let us go in.

The room we entered was a mess. There were boxes and beer cans scattered everywhere. The walls had paint peeling off them and all the furniture was covered in a thin layer of dust. The place hadn't been cleaned since the state did their inspection to see if it was suitable for us.

Chris shut the door and turned to us. His expression changed again and the smile he had previously disappeared from his face. "Alright listen," he said "there's 3 rules in this house. One, you do what I tell you to do. Two, you don't answer back or try to talk to me about your problems and 3 if you don't like how I do things you're more than welcome to runaway at any time. But if you do, there's no coming back and I won't be phoning the cops to come find you. And while you're here, you call me Chris. Understood."

"Don't you give a fuck about us?" I asked "we're 15."

Chris stepped toward me. I was terrified but I didn't want Roman to see that so I pretended not to be afraid.

"Not really," he replied "and don't swear. That's your one and only warning."

I laughed "what are you gonna do, punish me?"

What Chris did next neither of us expected.

He moved to stand a few inches from my face and placed his hands on the wall either side of me so I couldn't move. I was scared for a moment he'd hit me. 

"Listen here," Chris said "I am not your dad. That's what the state expects me to be but I don't give a fuck about you. I needed money to get some more beer and to get someone to clean this dump. Deciding to foster you brats means I got both things at once."

That was how our relationship started, Roman and I said we'd report him and he toned it down a little but he does still call us brats and he still swears at us. 

I feel bad for leaving Roman to deal with that shit but I couldn't take it anymore. If him or Chris discovered what I've been hiding the past few years I can't live there anymore. God, if they discovered what I did earlier I don't think they'd ever forgive me. 

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" The woman asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I shrug, I don't care. 

She moves her hand and I move the gun to follow her hand. I don't want her to try calling anyone.

She pushes a button and the radio turns on. It's on one of the news channels. They're just about to give the headlines for 1 o' clock.

"This is the one o'clock news," the newsreader says "the top stories are: A man has been jailed for 6 months after stealing nappies from a store in Philadelphia. Two women believed to have boarded a flight to Ohio with fake passports have been arrested and are awaiting a hearing. And a young man has been arrested on suspicion of the murder of Kailin Jenkins."

I tense in my seat. Who the hell has been arrested? They must know by now that I did it. I left my hoodie for fucks sake. I didn't leave it on purpose but by the time I realised it was too late to go back for it. 

If the police went home, they'd be told by Chris that I've been missing for 3 weeks. Maybe he hasn't even noticed. I deleted my number off his phone before I left. Even Roman hasn't tried calling me. Maybe he's forgotten me too.

I've been trapped in my own thoughts for so long that the newsreader has already reached the final story.

"And lastly, a young man has been arrested for the murder of Kailin Jenkins. She was stabbed and the police believe they have found the culprit. Connor Prince aged just 17 was arrested at the family home this afternoon. The trial is believed to be being held at the weekend. That's all for this hour, you're up to date."

I can't believe what I've just heard. Apparently neither can the woman "17, and a murderer, I would kill him if he was mine. Do you know him, you seem surprised?" 

"No," I lie "I don't know him." But I do know him, I know him too well. I can't believe Roman has taken the blame for me. The only question is, how the fuck am I going to fix this mess? Confessing? No I can't do that, that'd result in both of us getting in trouble.

Fuck. Chris is going to kill me. Why did Roman take the blame? He's such an idiot. But then maybe I'm the idiot for killing Kailin in the first place. I still think maybe I could fix this by confessing....but no. I can't. If I confess it'll make things worse. If Roman wants to play at being the hero and taking the blame for me, let him.

I try to push the thoughts of Roman out of my head. I move the gun away from the woman's neck and I rest it on my knee, keeping a finger on the trigger. I lean back in my seat and try to forget about the world.