The abandoned streets of London are a cruel place to be. Not only for the adults with the constant drinking, drug abusing and pitiful fights, but also for the children, wrongly brought into this style of growing up.
My siblings and I have had our fair shares of this. We still hold the scares, not only on our bodies, but on our spirits too.
But we fought through, we won our battles. Our battles with the other children, our battles with the wasted adults, our battles with ourselves - Our self-doubt - Our unbelieving that we would ever be free and that our horrific upbringing would be Forgotten.

A story of fighting, terror, abuse and a true sibling bond beyond the ages.


3. Realiation

The bus ride to our destination had been anything but smooth. The tension was unbearable. As people boarded and departed the bus, we were their first and last thoughts. We had taken a seat near the front, so when we got off we didn't have to see everyone staring at us. I sat the middle of my brothers, my left hand holding Dayan's right and my right arm around Rebelde's shoulders. For the whole journey, not a word was spoken between us. Dayan looked distant, with meant he was thinking. Going over the next stage of the plan. My middle brother was lost. He just stared out the window of the single story bus, his mind obviously somewhere else.

At the sight of our destination, I stood up, pulling my brothers with me. Their thoughts disappeared as they both looked to me, obviously looking for advice. I simply nodded, letting their minds register that we were away from our home for 13 years. We were away from the adults had beaten us since young. Yet we were on our own.


From the £10 we had started with, £4 was left. We had decided that it would be used in emergency only which meant, until we had a roof over our heads, we would have to fend for ourselves. I hoped that Dayan's first plan went smoothly. It was the most comfortable by far and definitely took the shortest time until we were safe. Day's plan consisted of a 3 hours walk to the homeless shelter, where we would have a meal and a place to sleep for the night. We would have to leave early in the morning for a 5 hours walk, 30 minute rest and then a 1 hour walk before we got to a children's home. Then, we just had to try and get in. If that didn't work, then plan B wasn't too bad but took a little while.

We took a small rest first on a nearby park bench. My brothers and I hadn't spoken a word since we were at the bus stop 45 minutes ago. We sat down on the bench and I hoped that someone would speak their mind. It was actually Dayan who broke the silence.

"Lacole? Rebelde?"

"Yes?" My brother and I asked in unison.

"Why did you guys fight so much before we left?"

I turned to my triplet. He met my gaze and we both acknowledged the fact that we knew this was coming. It was true, since we were just toddlers, Rebelde and I had a habit of disagreeing on every matter that came to hand. As we got older our arguments grew into physical fights, something that we were both punished for by the adults.

My brother sighed, "I don't know Dayan. We just did. Why do you ask anyway?"

"I don't know." Day started, "There's just a memory stuck in the back of my mind from when we were 10. You guys were fighting and I was scared, but I don't know why."

I gasped as the memory came flooding back into my head. I had spent the last 3 years trying to erase it from my mind but it all came back in one horrific flashback.


I sat on the floor, throwing a rounded pebble from hand to hand. I concentrated on it, my mind knowing it was more than a game. To others I was just passing the time, but I knew it was much more. I was juggling my life around, trying to figure out my brothers and my actions for the approaching evening, to minimise our chances of a beating.

The younger of my two brothers came running towards me, the tears in his eyes glistening in the moonlight. I held out my arms for my on oncoming brother, cringing slightly as he started crying into my chest.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling him away from my body. He turned slightly and pulled up the right sleeve to his half worn-out shirt, revealing the obvious early signs of a bruise. I narrowed by eyes at the repetitive sign of my immediate younger siblings doings.

"He had it coming." Rebe protested as he walked up to us. Day winced at the sound of his brother and quickly hid behind my now stood up body.

"Why would you do this?" I simply asked by brother. He shrugged his shoulders, obviously attempting to end the convocation. Inside me something snapped.

"Rebelde William Lorand Becond."I shouted, without a trace of regret. "You will answer me when I speak to you."

"Why should I?" My brother snapped. “You think that you own me? You may be the oldest, but you aren't the best you know."

"He is you brother Rebe. You can't use him as your personal punching bag."

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" He questioned me and he jumped into a fighting stance.

"Rebe, don't." I asked as I too, reluctantly, got into the stance.

"I'm done taking orders." He said.

Rebe ran forward, all of his anger built up into his attack. He swung his balled up fists at me, nothing on his mind except ending my orders. I tried to dodge his attacks but eventually he caught my jaw, knocking me sideways. He saw a window of opportunity and took it, punching me in the stomach to wind me, before bringing full force in a final attack at my chest. I stumbled backwards, tripping over a discarded beer can in in the process and landing in a pile of old boxes. My brother came up to me and pressed a firm hand on my bruised chest. My eyes widened in fear as a piece of glass glistened in his raised hand. My brought it down, slicing my left cheek.

My brother's hate filled eyes flooded with regret as he caught sight of the blood running down my face. He stared at the red-stained glass in his hand and threw it at a nearby wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. He looked back over at me, as I grasped my punctured wound. He backed away slowly before turning and running away, something he often did in times of regret and such.


"Lac? Lacole? You there?"

I blinked several times as Rebe clicked his fingers in front of my face. I looked around. I was on the floor, my head rested against a nearby lamppost.

"Wha-what happened?" I asked, rubbing my pounding head.

"You just fell. You looked so distant." Dayan stated. "Are you ok?"

Slowly I arose to my feet, I leant against the towering lamppost as my mind tried to register the events. I ran my hand over my cheek, my fingers bumping over the sewn scar that Dayan had done, relieved that he didn't remember the whole story, I felt that it was a bit horrific for him.

"I'm fine Day."

I sat down on the bench, my mind sill boggling over that night 3 years ago. Rebelde obviously saw the confusion in my eyes.

"Day, can you go pick up some of those coins over there?" He asked, pointing to a pile of scattered currency.

"Sure" He replied and walked off. Rebe sat down next to me, a hand on my shoulder.

"You had a flashback. About that night. Didn't you?" He stated.

"Yeah" I replied simply, my eyes staring at the floor.

"Look. I can't take back what I did that night. What I did do was stupid and reckless and left you with an everlasting burden. But know this. You’re my sister," He turned my head so that I met his gaze. "and I love you."

I stared into my brother's emerald green eyes. They weren't filled with hate, like the ones I had seen only a few minutes ago, but compassion.

"You've grown up." I stated, a smile on my face. "You're no longer that freedom seeking boy. You're becoming a brilliant man."

A similar smile crept onto the face in front of me. "Hey. My name means Rebel. That's what was, am and always will be. However, doesn't mean that I can't put my war aside to help a sibling."

We shared a second hug of the night before getting down off the bench, bringing Dayan away from the pile of coins and set off on our walk, our minds concentrated on what lay ahead, not behind.


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