If I Chose You Instead

God, I hated him. It's because of him that Mom is dead. His sorry a.s.s could go die in a ditch for all I care.

I should probably tell you the whole story.

I was about 16 at the time.

It was a Saturday morning. The birds were chirping their high-pitched music, the barking of dogs heard in the faint distance. I usually have Saturday tutoring, but my mom wanted to take me out for trying so hard on school work.

"Burger Palace or Pizza Shack?" Mom asked me, not looking up from her book. I placed a finger on my chin as if I was thinking.

"How about we go somewhere new?" I said, my eyes shining.

Mom looked up at me. "Like where, sweetheart?"

"I heard about this new place in the mall called China. It's a Chinese food place. Can we go?"

She grinned. "Of course. You do know Chinese food is my weakness."

A notification sound was heard from Mom's phone, making both of us jump. She looked down at her phone, her smile falling, and let out a groan.

"What's wrong?"

Mom shook her head and rubbed her temples. "Your dad is drunk again with all his colleagues. He won't be back home till, like 4 in the morning."

I felt my shoulders slump a little. I had really hoped that Dad would come home and finally just be with his family. I suddenly felt arms snake around me as my Mom's kind voice said, "Don't worry, Baekla. Maybe he'll come next time." I looked up at her, my mom smiling. I could tell it was faked to make me feel better but I smiled back.

"Come on, let's go to that China place." My Mom scoffed a little. "That's a very unique named," she added before we walked out of the house.

We got into my black corvette, my Mom in the passenger seat. I always loved the thrill that came with driving. Everything all in your control, how you can just let yourself free when driving. Well, of course there is having to be careful in case there's a car crash or some other emergency.

I was on the highway with Mom, music from the radio blaring. We were laughing and singing along, when all of a sudden… another car came smashing into the side of our car.

The car started going off the road while I fought for re-control. Both cars skidded to a stop. Once I made sure me and Mom were safe, I jumped out to see the person in the other car was safe.

What I saw through the window left me feeling terrified and breathless.

There in the backseat was Marra, blood covering her whole face. There was a cut that went through her forehead all the way down to her brow.

"Marra!" I shouted, trying to force the car door open but it wouldn't budge. I felt something cold touch the back of my head. Then a menacing voice growled, "Well, well well. Look who we have here." I could hear the cold smile in his voice.

"D-Dad?" I asked in a shaky voice.

The cold item tapped against the back of my head. "Turn around and see your poor, lowly mother."

I hesitantly turned around and immediately noticed my mother lying on the ground, her right leg bent awkwardly. The black pavement was covered in blood, a gunshot wound in her head. My father had a gun in his hand, probably what he had pressed against my head.

"Dad, you're drunk. How could you do this. Why would you do this?"

I tried to keep myself calm. I didn't want him to know that I was scared or worried about Mom or Marra.

"Don't call me Dad you sick bastard," he spat. "Both you and your mom deserve to die."

I knew that the shock I felt was spread across my face. "W-what do you m-mean?"

He made a gesture with his gun toward the trunk. "Go open it. I have a present for you," he said, a wicked smile on his face.

I gritted my teeth. "I don't want a present from the person who killed my mom." He pressed the gun to my temple, his finger dangerously on the trigger. "Don't try me, Baekla. Go open the f.u.c.k.i.n.g trunk."

I hesitantly walked closer to the trunk. I guess I was walking to slow, because he let out an impatient sigh and pushed me closer. He grabbed my arm and placed it on the handle to open the trunk.

"Open your present sweetie," he said, a sly grin on his face but his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

I opened the trunk and inside layed a man, his face faced away from me. My dad leaned over to turn the man's face so that I could see who it was. His neck had a long cut from one side to the next, and it still looked like a fresh wound. I finally brought myself to examine his face and noticed features that were similar to my dad's. Brown eyes, black hair, porcelain skin.

"Meet my twin, Marcell," he said, softly. So softly, I almost couldn't hear him.

I felt my eyes go wide, my breath coming out shakily. I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. "Did you… did you do this to him?" I asked, afraid of the answer I was going to receive.

Either he didn't hear me or he didn't care, because he didn't reply.

I turned to face him, my fingernails digging into my palms. "I said, did you do this to him." Tears were forming in my eyes, but I wiped them away angrily.

He turned away from me and walked toward the car. "Stay there," he commanded. A couple seconds later he comes back, something big and heavy in his arms. He laid it at my feet, and told me to open the bag. I hesitantly opened it, feeling something wet and sticky on the zipper. Stay calm, don't panic. Stay calm, don't panic, I told myself.

The bag was finally open, and I could see pale skin peeking out. I felt myself stop breathing.

"Marra!" I screamed. She was barely breathing and on the verge of death. Her lips were blue, almost purple. I looked up at my father.

"You monster!" I yelled at him, pushing him, almost making him lose his balance. "Why would you do this? Do you hate me that much that you would take everything from me?!"

"I'm not taking anything," he said slowly. "You're the one that was too stupid to save your mother or your friend." He grabbed me by the shoulders and led me closer to Marra, struggling to keep me contained. Taking my hands, he placed a gun in them and clasped his hands around mine, making it so that my fingerprints will be the ones found.

I desperately fought against him and tried kneeing him and kicking him, but nothing fazed my father into letting me go. Slowly he made me raise the gun so that it was pointing at Marra, her breathing barely noticeable. Hot tears streamed down my eyes, my eyes clenching shut. Then a gunshot was heard.

Then silence.

My eyes stayed shut, tears welling up in them. My whole body was shaking so much that I felt I was going into convulsions. My father had let go of me and my body fell to the floor, feeling crippled and defeated. Then I heard the sounds of a car door slamming and the engine revving going away.

I couldn't stop the hot tears that fell down my cheek, my voice coming out in broken sobs. My hands and the floor was covered in sticky blood, and there was splashes of it on my clothes and face.

A soft hand was placed on my back in a comforting manner. I turned around and there stood a guy, maybe three years older than me. He had beautiful auburn hair and pale skin that contrasted with his dark colored clothes. His eyes were green like a cat's.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, concern in his eyes.

"Y-yes, I'm okay," I said, trying to stand up. A wave of vertigo went over me and I felt like I was going to fall, but he quickly caught me and held me up.

He steadied me a bit, still ahold of my arms. "I saw everything, the cops are coming. They know it's not you. It's not your fault this happened."

I couldn't fully hear him because my mind was still fuzzy and my vision was blurry. My mom had an affair, I thought.

"...Miss?"

Shaking my head a bit, I looked up at him, a puzzling look on my face. "Yes?"

"I want to help, but I need to know your name," he said. Then he added, "I'm Jackson."

"Baekla. Baekla Johnson," I replied.