Stories are important to all of us, they contain our basic human nature, our wishes, our thoughts, our feelings. They hold our darkest fears and our highest hopes. They are us as we are them. There can not be one without another, just as there can not be life without death, there can not be humans without stories. Oh, and speaking of the whole life and death situation? It's more complicated then you would think, trust me, I would know.

Just like stories, life has an end, and a beginning, and if you really think about it, the two are not really all that different. And just like any good story, mine has a beginning.

It begins as any other story does, once upon a time, in a land far far away.....

I was seven and my brother was two or three years younger then me. It was a night that neither of us would forget. My father didn't have a good paying job and my mother wasn't allowed to do official work. So she made money the only way a woman without an education or a job could. Every night at least, she would come home with a new man. My brother was, at the time, too young to understand this. Often over the course of my life I have heard others speak with reverence of the families they miss, of the laughter and fun times they shared together, of the hugs and smiles and warm greetings. Growing up, I had none of this.

We are told when we're younger that fairy tales are true. That there's a fat old man who gives us presents and then leaves through the chimney, that there's a fairy who takes your tooth and leaves you money, that there's a rabbit who hides eggs for us to find, that we are the perfect family. And maybe somewhere in this big blue world of ours those fairy tales are true, but not here, not for me. My fairy tale ended as soon as it began; when I was seven, on a cool spring morning, on May 2nd. The day my parents died.

There's one thing you should know, my parents fought constantly. Every morning and every evening they would find something to fight about, and six in the morning on May 2nd was no exception, it went something like this:

Mom: I can't BELIEVE you didn't tell me the deal was off!
Dad: You should have known!
Mom: How could I?!? You never tell me ANYTHING! And now how am I supposed to get the money for their education!!
Dad: THEIR education?! THEIR education?!? Don't tell me now that you care about them!
Mom: *growls in anger* I need that money Riley. I swear to God I NEED THAT GOD D***ED MONEY NOW GET IT!!
Dad: *angrily* And I need it to pay off a debt! *glares at mom* And don't you smart mouth me you little whore, I know what you use that money for, and you won't bring another man into this house as long as I live.
Mom: * drinks from a bottle* Good thing that won't be for long then.
Dad: * smashes bottle on floor * WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME YOU LITTLE B****?!? YOU GONNA KILL ME HUH? YOU GONNA KILL ME?!? *chugs a bottle in his waistband and throws it away* SAY IT AGAIN!
Mom: *sees the uncontrollable drunken rage on his face but doesn't care* I'm gonna kill you sweetheart, way before you kill me or your offspring.
Dad: *pulls a gun* get into the back room. You're gonna be locked up for sayin those things. Have some respect woman!
Mom: Respect! RESPECT! YOU'RE A DRUNKEN THUG WHO WILL LIKELY BE DEAD BY SUNDOWN WHEN THE BOSS FINDS OUT THE DEAL SUNK!
Dad: SHUTUP YOU!

I looked at my brother, frightened. I didn't know what those words meant, but I knew the tone, and I could hear the anger. Daddy and Mommy had never fought like this before, ever. He glanced at me and I held up a hand, "Stay here" I whispered heavily, then, before I could turn back, I crept down the stairs and out peeked around the door of the kitchen. It was empty and i frowned, my brows drawing together. Where were they? Raised voices soared from the next door room and I tiptoed down the hallway towards the sound. Then I thought the world had ended. A deafening bang echoed around the walls of our old house. I had never heard a sound like that before. What was that? My ears rang, and I scuttled towards the wall and pressed my shaking hands to it, taking strength from its sturdiness. Ears still screaming I stood and walked zombie-like to the doorway of the family room. And that's when I saw her. Lying on the ground, her face turned away from me, unnaturally still. Mommy. Above her stood a man that I at first did not recognize. His shoulders were shaking, from rage, not sorrow, his eyes were glazed and wild and his shirt was spattered red. "Daddy" I stifled a cry but he heard me anyways. Slowly the man turned towards me, no, not the man, my father. We stared at each other for a long second and then he exploded. "GET OUT!" He screamed at me, waving the black tube like thing he was holding around. That must have been what made the noise, but what did that have to do with Mommy not moving? "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" I ran. "Jake !" I yelled for my brother, grabbed his hand and bolted for the door. Pounding footsteps followed our mad dash to the front hall, I unbolted the door with shaking fingers and threw it open. "DONT COME BACK YOU HEAR!!!" Gunshots and a raised voice careened after us as we ran across the field and into the forest on the other side.

My mind whirled, at the age of seven I don't think I could understand what happened. All I knew was that Mommy wasn't moving, Daddy was angry, we weren't to come back to the house, and that we were sleeping in the woods tonight. Jake sniffed and I took his hand, not sure why, just feeling like I needed to do something until I could figure out what happened. "We'll be okay Jake." I said quietly "Tomorrow we'll go find-" The sound of an engine revving cut me off and we froze like startled rabbits in the underbrush. Tires crunched on the gravel road. Harsh light stung our eyes and I blinked rapidly to keep my them from watering. Then the light moved on and all was still. All was silent. And we slept, though not soundly, but we slept until morning.

Soft breeze licked gently at my face. I blinked, confused, then sat upright, heart pounding as I remembered the day before. "Mommy?" I call out softly in the early morning light. It filters through the trees, casting shadows onto the leafy floor. My seven year old mind drifts back to the previous night and I feel my eyes burn. I do not stop the tears. I let them fall. I have never cried like this before, silently, softly. I lean over and shake Jake awake. "Jake come on we gotta go we can't stay here Jake come on." I breath out close to his ear, my warm breath tickling the back of his neck. He sighs tiredly and I gather him up in my arms, his sleepy weight heavy against my chest.

We stagger out of the woods close after the sun poked over the trees. All last night lights and sirens flashed past our hiding spot but we didn't dare to move, or breathe or blink, we didn't dare show ourselves. I breathed deeply, the fresh cool morning air cutting through the panic of the night before. We'll be safe, I thought, we'll be safe.