“It all started when I was taken from my home. I’m only 13 years old, I didn’t know what was happening or what was going on, I just wanted to get out of there.” I said to the police officer interrogating me. I felt tears coming, but i didn’t want to let them out no matter how painful it was.

“It’s ok, if you need a minute feel free to say so.” He said, but i shook my head, wanting to just go lay in my bed with my grandmother downstairs cooking sweet smelling cookies in the oven… just like my mother used to do everyday.

“And how did you get away?”

I breathed more heavily at the thought of the reason my parents are no longer with me or my older brother. I started shaking, the words unable to come out of my mouth.

Breathing became intensively difficult as memories of blood and anger flashed through my mind. The memories of when I was with him in whatever place I was in.

I forgot where I was, the memories to intense that I could almost feel and smell and hear everything that I did when I was there, and I couldn’t help but scream in terror.

I stood up for fast that I knocked my chair down beneath me. I screamed for someone to help me.

I felt so small and helpless, just like I had before. I had even forgotten that I had escaped and that I was safe.

Soon big, strong and comforting arms held me, me brother. He put my face into his chest as he tried to comfort me and tell me that I was safe and everything would be alright.

He raised his voice at the officer and told him that I needed a minute and he would have to wait.

My brothers arms felt like a safe house and I soon calmed down. He was the only family I had left.

“No.” I sniffed. “I’m ok.”

My brother looked me straight in the eyes, “Are you sure?” He asked sympatheticly.

“Ya I am.” I sat back down in my chair as my brother slowly left the room.

“Okay Emily, one more try. How did you get away?” The officer said.

“He let me go.” I replied simply, tears on the verge of breaking through again, but I held it together.

“What do you mean he let you go?”

“I mean… he told me that if he let me go, something would happen. It was all my fault!” This time no one, not even my brother could stop my tears.

It was all so overwhelming. I was in the hospital being interrogated after surviving a serial killer and finding out my parents died because of my choice.

I cried for twenty minutes my brother and the police man trying to calm me down.

But once i did he asked me, “What was your fault?”

I felt my brothers hand on my back giving me comfort and support, this time staying in the room.

“The thing that was going to happen if he let me go, was killing our parents. And I told him to let me go, even after knowing that something like that would happen.”

After saying that I expected my brothers hand to leave, but it stayed.

“Ok Emily, thank you for your patience. We will find him and that is a promise. I’m so sorry this had to happen to you, and it’s not your fault. Don’t ever think that, because then he would’ve gotten what he wanted.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And just to confirm, with your brother having turned 18 you will be living with him?”

My brother nodded in agreement. The officer then left and it was just me and my brother left.

My brother came and sat beside me on the bed. “It’s not your fault.” He said, emphasizing the word ‘not’.

“But if I would’ve just stayed, they would still be here.” I peeped.

“You didn’t know what that phyopath was going to do.”

“Look it’s fine if you hate me. I mean, I hate me.”

“Emily, you are my little sister I love you more then anything. I would never hate you no matter what happens, especially for something that’s in your control.”

And all that’s there was left to do was together as we waited for the doctor come do another check up on my injuries.