When I was a child, I dreamed of living in a big house, fully furnished with proper wooden flooring and nicely painted walls. I dreamed of being able to eat large, cooked meals that were eaten on a plate with utensils, on a fine table. I dreamed of wearing nice, clean clothes that would keep me warm. I dreamed that me and my twin brother would be able to play tag with the other kids who lived in the heart of the city.

I wish I had thought of the great consequences to fulfilling such wishes. 

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, MAFIOSO JIM 'WHISKEY'! THIS IS THE POLICE! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!"

They bang, bang, banged on my door, trying to force it open. It had five different locks on it, making it as secure as could be, yet my heart was pounding.

We have you Surrounded. Surrounded.

I grabbed the last of my things and stuffed it into my bag, before securing it with a padlock. Need to secure it. Always need to secure it.

When I was a child, I dreamed of being able to sleep in the slums without hearing drunken shouts, screams and gunshots. I dreamed of a place where I wouldn't see bloody carcasses scattered around my home.

"WHISKEY!"

I took deep breaths, sweat dripping down my face. Need to leave. Need to leave NOW. I ran to my kitchen. I had forced the engineers to remove majority of the windows in my house. It had made the house very stuffy and hot, but now it was paying off. I grabbed a knife, and pushed one of the shelves, revealing a hatch.

When I was a child, I was kidnapped by a a gang of men. They led me to a life I thought I always wanted. They let me work for them in exchange for riches. Lots of it.

I slid the knife into the hatch to unlock the it and I hopped in, before closing the it and locking it once again. Now they can't follow me. Steel hatch, with a 0.5 cm gap to put this knife, custom made, to unlock it with. Gotta keep up the pace, just in case. Never rest. No rest for the wicked, no. I kept running through what used to be the underground cellar.

The men taught me how to kill people. They said I was their star pupil. Full of potential. Taught me lots of things. Said they could teach my brother too.

Light peeked through one of the dirt walls. I used my hands and dirtied my suit to dig my way out of the cellar. I know they used the house plans to find 'all' my possible escape routes. They forgot that I was the brains of my little posse. I had the ability to think ahead. I climbed out of the dusty cellar, my bag in one hand. I looked around for police, before sprinting off towards the slums.

I told my brother about it. He refused. That was fine to me; my brother was always the squeamish type. But the men didn't take it as well as I did.

I inhaled air as I ran like the wind to the slums. The people there don't care who I was. I could just leave through the slums without any suspicion. I'll be fine. I'll be fine. People I ran past looked at me with a puzzled face, wondering why I was in a rush.

"Jim! Fell into a drain?" A baker, Yoseph asked, laughing heartily as I stopped near him to rest.

Jim. My fake identity. Just hearing the awful lie of a person they thought I was made me want to puke.

"Ha.....haha..... Nay. Just went to the slums. Y'know... the usual. I left somethin' there, so I gotta rush back." I said under my breath, trying to keep up my facade.

"Ah, no wonder. Here, give this to that poor sick boy you were always worrying your head off about." Yoseph handed me a freshly baked pastry. I knew Yoseph was kind, but I did not think of him as the kind to care about those in the slums. Nobody ever did, no.

"Ah, I'm sure he'd love this. Thanks, old chap." I smiled at him sincerely as I gave him the pastry back so he could place it in a small container before I began to run once again.

When I went back into the slums after work the next day, I dropped to my knees in absolute horror as I saw my poor brother, beat to a bloody pulp, lying down unceremoniously. I let go of my dreams that day. I didn't care about them anymore. I worked just to keep him alive.

I jumped over the debris scattered across the path towards my destination. I had already memorized the way. I had one last place to go before I leave.

I knocked the rotting wooden door, my eyes staring at my feet. Not good enough to look him in the eye, no, not after what happened.

The door opened, and I heard my brother, Felix, say in his weak, raspy voice, "Benjamin?" 

His bony hands cupped mine, before his thin arms wrapped around me in an embrace. My instinct made me stagger back, and I bit my lip as I hear him mutter an "ah--" as he forced a smile, his eyes glistening sadly. Ah, no no no, I missed you too... I missed you too...

"H-here. I have to go..." No, that was terrible. I felt like punching myself.

"Already? But it's been so long--" He began, his fingers wrapped around the container with the pastry. I had hidden a little something there too.

"SLUM RESIDENTS WE ARE LOOKING FOR A TALL MAN IN A SUIT CALLED--!"

I immediately ran. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I turned around one last time to see my poor brother's face, sadness written all over his face. Felix... I failed you. I lied. I... Tears began to blur my vision as I ran towards the entry gate. 

"Benjamin...  Forget about me, Benjamin. Papa said not to do bad... Don't listen to those men..."

"Please...."