The Imperials

four: normal lives are the worst cliches

Maya.

"Don't strain yourself until the wound has healed. I mean it Niall." My brothers wound had just finished getting patched up a few seconds ago yet his blood is already making its way through. "Yeah yeah, I know." Niall carefully moves his legs and fixes his position so that he's laying down, taking up the entire back seat. We managed to land in some tree-covered forest where an old hideout or something was and decided to stay here for now. Just until we get back on the road.

"I wonder what those guys wanted.." my voice wavers a bit at the thought of whether or not they were familiar with us. After all, our parents have been in their hit list before they were kidnapped by some hazmat suited psychos. I admit I was sh*t scared then, but now, I think back at it with not much emotion as before. Five months ago they were reported to have run away from ADAM's headquarters and fled the country- they've never even tried to get in contact with us.

"Maya." I immediately whip to Niall as he calls my attention, trying to seem less distracted than I was. "Yeah." I wipe my brothers blood of my hands onto a cloth and dump it into compartment of the truck afterwards. "Did you hear me?" I pause for a minute, trying to grasp the last bit of reality and go back to hear what Niall said. "Not really."

"I said that maybe they just wanted some bodies to haul...are you okay?" It takes me a few seconds to fully grasp the situation. Always took me a long while, probably because it's hard for me to make sense of everything happening in my life. And Niall's.

"I just wish...I don't know. Maybe if we had normal lives, then maybe we won't have to constantly think that people are trying to kill us. Or think that one of us might lose the other. You know?" I rant to my brother before taking the passenger seat up front of the truck, fiddling with my thumbs.

Niall gives me a casual yet comforting laugh. "I remember what our uncle Roman told us before, about normal lives." I turn to my brother and question him with my eyes. "Normal lives are the worst cliches, he said. Sometimes I think he's right."

Uncle Roman...

Flashback.

"Make sure you grasp the trigger properly and use both your hands to support the weight of the gun, since you're just a kid. If you plan on taking the shot, pull back the safety and pull the trigger. And remember; don't blink." Uncle Roman watched Niall as he aimed at the beer bottle set at lest ten feet away from him. I'm already aiming my gun and ready to shoot until our uncle counts down to three. "One...two...shoot." And at the same time, two bullets are fired into the distance, completely shattering glass bottles from afar.

"See, you got the hang of it!" He cheers us on. I was somewhat proud of me and Niall's achievement, however Niall himself seemed a bit let down. "What's wrong bud?" Uncle Roman ducks down to get to Niall's exact height.

"Daddy said normal kids don't learn how to fight because they are normal." He pauses a few seconds before continuing. I can just remember his chubby his cheeks were compared to now. "Why can't Maya and I be normal kids?" Uncle Roman doesn't get upset or angry. In fact, he laughs and pats my younger brother on his back. "Because one day, kids your age and older may need to learn the basic necessities of survival. Your sister started when she was six while you were still five and a half years old. Both of you are special kids, and one day you'll make me, your aunt and your parents proud." That's enough to make both me and Niall smile all teeth.

"And besides, normal lives are the worst cliches. Why be normal when you could be special, right?" He asks. "Right!" We reply.

Present.

"Yeah, I remember that. Uncle Roman may have been a tough cookie before, but he loved reading." I laugh at the memory of him reciting one of the most famous quotes from Julius Caesar, something about our faults not being in our stars or whatever.

"True. Props to him for his ability to speak the language of love." Niall jokes. I'm pretty close to correct him and say that the language of love is actually French, when the sounds of tires squeaking and a car catches both my and my brother's attention. "Stay." I whisper before grabbing my gun and quietly tiptoeing across the forest grounds, praying that the leaves and twigs don't make much sound.

Had my prayers been answered? Absolutely.

The.

Hell.

Not.

"Who's there?!" An angry elderly male voice calls not far off from the woods, making me nearly freeze in place.

Well, sh*t.

Authors note.

Aaaand that's a wrap. I wrote these four first chapters in one day and my fingers are hella tired. So how was it? Sorry again if it's super boring....bear with me since I'm losing interest in my own story...aha...

ANYWAYSSSS, PLEASE UPVOTE, COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS AND SPREAADDD THE WORD!!! Like I said before....im looking for more readers.... :p

Have yourselves a peachy day and just in case nobody told you.... YOU ARE AWESOME AND HELLA IMPORTANT!!! 😎

STAY GOLDEN MY PEEPS!!