1. Prologue

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Issa Tate's POV

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Issa Tate's
POV

"Please don't go!" I beg my brother.
"Issa.. I have to. You know I don't have a choice. You'll be okay. Okay? Timothy will watch over you. I'll see you next Christmas. I love you." My big brother Elijah tells me. I'm not really sure how our butler can help with anything.. Though I know he's saying it for his benefit. And for mine he's trying to be strong... Boys.
We've both been dreading this day for a year. Being separated is hell for us after what we've been through. To him, he's leaving his baby sister alone with no one to stop dad from hitting me or to keep me from seeing Mother passed out from who knows what kind of drugs. To me it's losing my best friend. My protector. Without him, nothing stands in my fathers way.
   Most of the girls at my school think my dad is hot. That my life is perfect... though it might look like that it's anything but. Money doesn't make life perfect by any means. And people hide disfunction behind deceitful smiles. My parents for example...

Flash back

All I can see is red. Like all other colors vanished from my sight. No shapes. Just red and stars. It's not the kind of red you see when you're so full of rage that that's all you see. No this kind of red you see when your father is choking you so hard you're dangling two feet from the ground and like I said. You see stars.
I hear yelling from a distance. I think it's my mother begging him stop like she always does. Sobbing and screaming as usual. Or maybe my brother saying that if he doesn't stop he won't have any part of the gang. Those two scenarios play out just about every time this happens. Though sometimes I'm the one threatening my father.
Suddenly I fall to the ground as my fathers hands release me from their iron tight grip. I take the opportunity to gasp for air, cupping my throat. A mixture of relief and fear floods through my body when my hearing starts to work again and I hear my brother taking a different approach at saving me with threatening words.
I look up to see my fourteen year old big brother pointing a kitchen knife at my father. And something unexpected happens.
My father starts laughing happily like he's actually proud that his son has the "stones" as he puts it, to threaten his life as he's said before.
"Good to know you know which end to point at me with boy. A good start for  training next month."
And with that he walked out after kissing my mother on her tear stained cheek. Humming to himself.
....... That's happened many times before and many times after to both me and Elijah. And through all that we always had each other.


Present

That was the first night I found my mother passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand and pills crushed on the coffee table or in her hand or just scattered everywhere.
For some reason that particular incident sticks out to me now. Sitting with my parents at yet another mostly silent awkward dinner. I still remember having to wear a lot  makeup to cover up the bruises on my face, neck, and arms. I also remember Mother laughing and smiling at parties the next day like nothing ever happened.
Now here I am begging my big brother not to leave to a place he has no choice but to go to. Sterlington Academy, specializes combat training, firearm training, language, and any other qualities, knowledge, or skills a gang leader needs. Someday I'll be sent there but sixteen is youngest you can be entered. While my brother is old enough, I still have two years to go.
I watch him walk up the escalator two steps at a time. Knowing Christmas won't be the next time I'll see him. Not if he or my father have anything to say about it.

Tomorrow I start my training. Just like my brother. And just like my brother I'm going to learn how to kick some ass. Specifically my Dads. But the difference is that I won't have the comfort or the protection of my sibling in the years ahead like my brother did. I'll be completely and totally alone..

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