Have you ever killed anything?

Not just like in a game or something - in real life, in a 'I got to kill this thing so we can have dinner' type of way.

It wasn't my favourite thing, if I'm honest. 

I hated the sound of my pulse in my head, the quiet nerves that wracked my spine, and the sweat that built on my brow that inevitably would fall into and sting my eyes. Spit would pile in my mouth but, of course, I had to hold still, hold my ground, and try to kill my dinner.

"Nervous?" I heard my mother's voice faintly, my eyes and mind elsewhere.

I was nervous, I thought to myself. 

I was nervous for everything that lay ahead. I was nervous that my father's way of life screwed me up for eternity. I was nervous that people would expect something grand, and instead, I would just be standing there like 'der, hello' with my hands in my pockets and a dumb look on my face, having literally nothing grand to say at all. I was even nervous for the fact that I wore my old high school's sweater on the first day of my new high school.

Who does that?

I felt a hand on my leg. "It's okay to be nervous."

For all my nervousness, living in the mountains taught me three valuable things: to hunt wildlife, you better get your own piece of land to grow food and raise animals, and that cellphones were an afterthought – a thought after a long day, as you lay down, and barely remember that you had a cellphone to begin with.

Thinking back, my father was a simple man and he taught me simple things. He absolutely hated technology, hated it, but he loved hunting.

He loved hunting, writing, and our dog, Glenn.

Due to his hate, it was no wonder I was a rookie to touch screens. My fingers felt like swollen logs as I tried to navigate my new cellphone. It was unnecessarily large and rather difficult to comprehend, which made it all the more frustrating.

I sat in the passenger seat with my back slouched improperly, a frown planted on my face. I stared at the apps on the screen, trying to figure out where and how to download Facebook.

"She's an alien, isn't she?" my stranger of a brother mumbled to our mother.

I couldn't suppress a roll of my eyes, already irritated by the task at hand. "A different, more intelligent species than you maybe, but not alien."

"Clearly," he snorted, "and how's that working out for you?"

Our mother grinned at the banter and met eyes with Joseph through the rear-view mirror. "Your sister lived with your brute of a father, cut her some slack."

Joe was younger than me, but also bigger, if that made any sense. Unfortunately, or fortunately (I hadn't decided), I didn't know him at any type of personal level, having not been around him for seven years. The thought was daunting because, barely knowing my own brother, I wouldn't be able to pick his face from a crowd.

Joe reached over the passenger seat to grab my phone. "Hey!" I growled, instinctively whacking the side of his head with a strong arm.

"Scout!" my mother gasped.

Joe shoved my head aside and slipped the phone out of my hand. "I'm trying to help you!" he huffed, and sat back in his seat with the iPhone, clacking his fingers along the screen. "Asshole," I heard him mutter.

I glared at Joe with an intense stare. I was possessive of my belongings, and it irked me beyond compare to have him take something of mine – even if I had literally just gotten it.

"Scout, you can't just hit people!" my mother cried. I looked angrily at her, my skin prickling all over. I had been living with her for a week now, but I was still surprised by how much weight she had lost in the time that my father and I left.

I guess divorce really did wonders to some people.

"He startled me," I muttered, picking a thread on my gray hoodie.

She shook her head and gave a side long glance at me. Her hazel eyes were a replica of my own. "Just promise me you won't be hitting anyone at your new school," she laughed.

The side of my mouth jumped up in a small grin at the thought. "Most people have it coming," I said, matter-of-fact.

I had always been an angry person and lashing out had always been an issue of mine, but my father would dismiss it as being "a strong woman". Obviously, discipline wasn't his strong suit.

"Most people aren't dealing with a psychopath," Joe chimed.

I whipped my head around to stare at my brother, my hands balling into fists once more. His eyes were dark brown, glistening from the light through the window. His hair was golden and sprawled into neat waves atop his head. He grinned, flashing white teeth. "Gonna hit me?" he taunted.

The car slowed to a stop. I felt my mother's hand fall on my shoulder, holding me back. "Anyone hungry?"

Joe inhaled a deep breath and flung his door open, hopping out in one swift motion. "Fuck yeah!"

"Joseph, watch that mouth of yours!" my mother scolded.

I sighed and followed in tow, shutting the SUV's black door behind me. I hadn't even realized where we were, pulled up in front of an IHOP. My stomach groaned, and I put a hand to it. I guess I also hadn't realised that I was starving.

I wore scuffed white converse shoes, light washed jeans, and a hoodie that read "Smithers Secondary School" in black letters. My hair was dark brown, pulled up into a messy bun on my head.

"Here," I heard Joe say. He was a tower over me, something I hadn't truly noticed until now. He offered me my phone and then slapped my shoulder too hard, causing me to wince.

Walter Riley was sat in a far corner when we arrived, a newspaper folded in front of him with the sports column evident. A coffee cup nearly empty was to his right, and when he looked up, familiarity overcome him. "Joelle, you're late!" He stood and pulled my mother into a hug, kissed her cheek, and nodded at Joe and me. "Nice to see you, kids."

Joelle sat beside him, scooting into the middle of the booth. "We stopped at that Apple outlet to get Scout a new phone. Did you see that old thing she had? We couldn't send her to Douglas with that," she laughed, shaking her head; as if the notion was completely ridiculous. "The Moms in the Hayes Committee would have a field day!"

Douglas Hayes Academy was some sort of monumental, extremely sought after school that I probably never would have gotten into if it hadn't been for my mother and Walter. Apparently, the boarding facilities were the best in all the province, and apparently, I had no say in the matter.

"I'm sure she would have been fine with a rock," Joe responded all too quickly, as if the words had been prepared and cooked well before needed.

I gave him a glare, but held my tongue, the taste of a long car ride left with me little to no fight. I was angry and exhausted, my mind still spiralling from the week's events.

My father was a selfish man, and in his selfish ways, he left for Europe, which left me for my mother. It wasn't all bad, I suppose. Vancouver was nice, a little too busy for me, but the coffee was much better.

I had lived with my dad in the mountains of Smithers, BC, having moved when I was nearly ten. I didn't know what a divorce meant when I was that age, and was severely confused when father said he had to go away for awhile. All I knew was that he was my best friend, and that I could not, would not, let him leave without me.         

Was that how it happened? I couldn't be sure anymore, but it felt like that was how it went.

And although I had absolutely no evidence against my mother, I always assumed it was her fault that things were the way they were.

He still left though, seven years later. It hurt to know that my father made plans that didn't involve me, but I also knew that I shouldn't have relied on him in the first place. My whole life had been an attempt to gain his interest, but the characters in his novels were always the first ones to earn it. And Glenn. In his defence though, he was a good boy.

I looked at Walter's face and my mother leaning into him, wondering what they thought of my dad. Was I too hurt to think straight? Or was I spot on and he was a complete douche bag?

Joe sat to my right, and soon enough, Jackson appeared.

Jackson was my fraternal twin, although people had always asked if we were identical. Jack was the smarter of the brothers, probably even the smartest of the siblings. He was tall and athletically gifted, the perfect step-son for any type of Walter.

Walter grinned with all the warmth of the sun as he saw Jack, as if that were his actual kid. In my head, I puked a little.

Jack was kind and gentle and had great sense of humour. He was often mistaken for being twenty-something due to his maturity, stunning people when they found out he was barely seventeen. 

As if to counter my thought process, he smacked Joe on the back of the head as he took a seat.

Joe grunted and threw a hand Jack's way.

I zoned out, slowly sinking back into my mind. I had an inkling that downloading Facebook would be easier the third time around, so I pulled my phone out, and tried my luck. I raised a brow when I noticed the blue app with the small 'f', wondering how I was able to make that happen.

Then, as Joe said something probably stupid, I realised that he had done it.

I pondered the question, wondering if it would give him too much power over me. Ignoring my intuition, I turned and asked, "Joe, would you download Instagram for me?"