Emma and I

took my little sisters hand tightly and walked slowly, trying to figure out the way out of here. My name is Emily, I’m 10 and my little six year old sister is Emma. We live in southern North Carolina with our mom, our dad died about a month ago. Ever since it has been horrible at my house, something inside our mother snapped when they took daddy’s body away, from the road he lied in when his car was smashed. She can barely look at us, but we think its better that way. When she does look at us it is horrible, she always hits us and tells us what rotten little brats we are. Back at home we have what Emma likes to call, good days and bad days. Good days are when we can stay at school late, come home, eat quickly and go right to sleep without having to say anything to our mom. Today however, was a bad day.
         It was Saturday, so Emma and I woke up early and went outside into the woods by our house. When we first moved here and went exploring we found this place, way in the back, behind all the trees, with a tiny pond and a lot of grass. Mama never found out about that place, so we called it the safety zone. The safety zone was where we spent most of our Saturdays, or any other day we were home. Today was different though, for once we weren’t safe in our hideaway.  As we where sitting back there, playing games in the water, we heard our mama’s voice come screaming through the woods, “EMMA! EMILY! You little brats better come out right now! Or I sware to god!” We know better then to go towards her when she is screaming like that, so we turned around and ran for our lives down the path, leading the back way out of the woods. Only too bad for us, because running on leaves make a lot of noise and our mom quickly found us. She picked us up by our hair and pulled us close to her face, “You girls are in for it,” she sneered between her teeth, “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you are done! So done!” She dragged us back towards the house, the whole time cursing at us and reminding us of how horrible we really were. I tried to wiggle free but her grip was too tight. So we ended up back at home with our mothers angry hands beating us. She always cries when she does it, but if we so much even shed a tear the beating will only get worse. When she finally finished her eyes glared at us and she pushed us to the ground, “Git out of my sight!” she screamed. I scrambled off the floor and ran up to my room, Emma right on the back of my heels.
“We have to do something!” I said walking back and forth, trying to think of a plan. “We can’t stay here.” Emma’s big blue eyes filled with wonder as she looked up at me,
“But what can we do?” I sighed and sat down angrily on my bed, and wiped off the blood that was trickling down from my cheek. I just wished everything would stop, that daddy would come back alive and none of this would ever happen again. I froze.
“I GOT IT!” I screamed so loud that I startled Emma and she jumped up.
“What! What!” she yelled eagerly, hope filling her sad blue eyes.
“We’ll run away.” I said proud of myself, “We can walk through the woods and into town.” I looked at Emma waiting anxiously for a reaction from her, but she just stared at me. “Em? What do you think?”
“I guess its ok.” she said lowering her head. I suddenly got angry at her,
“Well do you have any better ideas!?” I asked angrily.
“Yes.”
“Well then what is it?”
“I can’t tell you,” she started playing with the rug on the floor; she looked like she was deep in thought.
“Oh come on Emma! Tell me right now! Do you want this to happen again!” I was practically shrieking now, I just couldn’t think of getting beaten anymore.
“I no where daddy’s guns are,” she said calmly, still not looking at me.
“Yeah and?” I asked pushing her for more.
“We could kill her.” The words flowed from her mouth so quietly and quickly, that I honestly wasn’t sure if that’s what she really said. I searched around for something to say to her, but I couldn’t even speak.
“Kill mama?” I finally said moving closer to Emma, “Is that what you said?”
“Yes.” She said still not looking at me. My heart started beating faster as I thought about it. It was a good idea. Actually it was a perfect idea. But how? How could I kill my mother. I thought then about how many times she hurt us, how she said it would be better if we where dead then alive.
“Lets do it,” I said suddenly, “Where are the guns Emma?”

         Later that night we crawled up into the attic that was above our room.
“They are over there,” Emma whispered pointing to a long box laying in the middle of the room. I crawled over, the wood and nails from the floor dug into my skin, ripping and tearing at it, until the blood came pouring out. I put my hand on the box and dragged it back to the ladder, then passed it to Emma as she lowered it down. She sat on the floor and took it out; I jumped down and stared at her. She was humming a song softly to herself as she pulled the gun out and shined it against her pajama pants.
“Em? You know how to work it?” I asked her quietly.
“Sure I do. I used to watch daddy shoot all those rabbits in the back yard. All you have to do is,” she picked up the gun then and held it up to her face, rapping her hands around it, “aim, shoot, and then shoot again and again! You just keep shooting until you are sure that it’s dead!” Her voice got higher and higher with every word until her voice was practically shrieking. She threw the gun down and started to hysterical cry. “I hate her Emily! I HATE HER! I want her dead! I want her to pay for everything she’s ever done!”
“Shhh! I pulled her closely to give her a hug, “relax. She will be gone soon.” What ever doubt I had in my mind about this plan before, quickly left my body once I saw my sister freak out like this. “Come on lets do it.” I pulled her up by her hand, and picked up the gun. It was a lot heavier then I had expected and my body swayed a little.
“Give it to me,” Emma said reaching out her hands. I passed it to her, and she held it gracefully.
“What the hell is going on up there?” our mother’s voice beamed through the hall way leading to our room. We both froze and looked at each other, my heart was racing. Emma seemed calm, and a huge smile spread across her face.
“Mama come in here for a second!” she said laughing like a maniac. “I wanna show you something!”
“What could possibly be so important that you have to show me now!” our mother’s voice got louder and louder as she approached the door. I couldn’t look! The door swung open. “EMMA!”
“Yes mama?” her voice sounded so innocent and soft, “What is it?”
“What are you doing?” mama’s voice sounded scared, and she tried to inch back out of the doorway.
“Don’t move!” Emma’s voice cracked but she didn’t move an inch.  “I hate you mama! I hate you!” She was still standing there with the gun up at eyelevel and pointing straight at our mother. Mama didn’t say anything but just watched her, laughing,
“You think your such a tough girl don’t you! Standing there with your daddy’s old gun, does it even have any bullets in it you smart little girl?” She was laughing now too, and I crept up on my bed, hugging my knees up to my chest and trying hard not to cry. Emma pulled the trigger, I waited. Nothing. No bullets in the gun.
“NO! NO!” Emma screamed and dropped the gun. Mama’s laugh filled up the room with an eerie ring to it.  She picked up the gun and smashed Emma over the head with it, each time she laughed harder and harder.
“Now where is your sister?” she asked scanning the room. I didn’t even try to move, my legs felt like jello. She walked over to me and started bashing me with the gun, I tried hard not to cry or even move. The pain was horrible, it filled my entire body. I heard a noise from above us then, Emma jumped down from the attic with another gun. She held it out and shot. My mother screamed loudly then fell smash on to me. Emma shot again and again.
“STOP IT! STOP IT!” I screamed “STOP EMMA! Its over.” I heard the gun fall to the ground and her small body came running towards me. My heart pounded as mama’s body laid on me, blood dripping from all over her, on to me. I didn’t even cry, neither did Emma. She simply put her hand out for me to take. I slithered out from underneath the body and we walked in silence, hand in hand, out of the house. I looked around outside, it was pitch black but I knew exactly where the woods were. As I walked through the woods my entire mind and body felt so relaxed, as if nothing could hurt us at all.  A gun shot boomed through the woods then, and Emma shrieked and fell to the ground. I turned around and saw my mother hobbling, and with a flashlight in her hand sprinting as fast as she could towards me,
“You only got me once!” she laughed hysterically then, “don’t you ever think you can kill me.” She pulled the trigger then and it hit me, right in the chest, I hit the ground and an image of daddy’s crying face flashed before my eyes, and I suddenly remember him saying never to touch his guns.