I grew up with my parents. They were the most loving parents in my eyes, but they weren't perfect. They owned a drug company, but they never took any drugs. I questioned them, and asked why they would sell something they didn't think was good. They would always tell me the same thing.
“We need to be in good shape to take care of you! and that means we need to be ourselves at all times.” I guess they hated the thought of losing control. For that same reason, I thought they were the coolest people in the world. I would normally fantasize about being like them when I grow up. Being a drug dealer.
I only lived with them for the first six years of my life. They got me whatever I wanted, and gave me all their attention. Everything was fine until that one day when they got caught.
I remember it like it was yesterday. mom and I were in the kitchen, I was helping her with lunch, and then I looked out the window. It wasn't clear at first, but what I saw was a bunch of cops pilled around our house with guns pointed at the door. Mom called for dad, and they both decided to step outside. They left me there in the house. Looking out the window, and waiting on what would happen next. The cop's hand cuffed them and started shoving them into their cars. I couldn't have just left them there, so I stepped out of the house as well. One of the officers yelled into an intercom.
“We got the targets, but they have a kid what do you want us to do with her?” I never heard what they told them to do, but they started grabbing me and pulling me away from my home. I heard mom cry as they told me they were saving me. I heard dad panic as they put me in their van. It might seem weird, but I didn't cry. The Kershaw family never cries...
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