Run-Away Little Sister: Hurting

Chapter Nine: Grief

Sixteen Months Later - Mid-June 2014

ANASTASIA'S POV:

Grief.

A feeling of deep sorrow, often caused by the death of a loved one.

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For fifteen months Alexandria and Miles were on this planet after she had given birth to my baby siblings, Dylan and Courtney. Those were some of the best fifteen months of my life. In total I had nineteen normal, happy, care-free months.

I turned fifteen years old. 

I watched as Miles, Javier, and Jake all taught the group and I how to lead this gang after they were gone. But none of us thought they'd be gone this soon.

In this life style people don't always make it from one day to the next. You consider yourself lucky to live for another day. That was one of the first things I learned.

But it doesn't make the grief that follows any easier.

The lump in my throat, the tears I can't let out, the emotions I force myself not to feel, the anxiety I fight through everyday, the anger and sadness I feel at not being able to protect everyone I cared about that night.

I lost so much in one night, in less than twelve hours, and I did next to nothing to stop it, I just watched it all happen. 

Flashback - One Month Ago

It was around eleven-thirty at night, and after a long day of school, homework, paperwork for Dad, and then training, I was absolutely exhausted. I had my pajama's on and I was laying in bed, moments away from being asleep.

I had closed my eyes, not even beginning to dream when a loud gun shot sliced through the silence, I stayed laying down in my bed, peeking my eye open just slightly in case there was more than the one gunman who shot the bullet off.

Scanning my surroundings, I came to the quick conclusion that it was safe for me to move. I quickly got changed into my bullet proof vest that I had sitting in my room, before pushing the gun, a Glock, that was in my closet into my waistband. Then I walked back out into the main part of my bedroom, grabbing the gun off of my desk.

I had two fully loaded guns on my person.

But now, I had to get to Courtney and Dylan.

I opened my door, hiding behind the wall next to the doorframe. Slowly peaking out, with my gun in front of my body, I checked my surroundings. Nobody was there, nothing was out of place.

Another gun shot rang out.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I began making my way towards the twins bedroom, I constantly turned around even five to ten seconds, checking my backside, as I held the gun in front of me, praying that whoever it was that broke in, was already done. That they were already dead, and none of my family would get hurt. 

I knew that wasn't the case though, bullets were flying downstairs, I could hear all the gunshots shake me from the ground below. My body was shaking, my anxiety was spiking, but my adrenaline cured most of my self-doubt in this situation. 

I ignored the fight that was clearly going on below me, I had to get to Courtney and Dylan first.

They were my top priority.

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Getting to Courtney and Dylan's shared baby bedroom seemed like such an easy task, even with the constant hammering of my heart inside my chest and the anxiety spiking inside of me. I took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door slowly and scanning the room in front of me.