Chapter 4: A Dark Decision
January 28, 1975
Sophia sat angrily on the bed, her hands tightly clenched into fists. Her face was flushed with rage, her usually calm demeanor shattered by the events that had unfolded the day before.
"Well, they already know what's happening, and they're taking away the damn money we worked so hard for to get away from them!" Sophia's voice trembled with fury as she spat the words, her eyes blazing with resentment.
Matthew, sitting across the room, his gaze cast downward, looked almost defeated. The weight of their situation pressed down on him more than ever. He ran a hand through his messy hair, the dark strands falling in front of his eyes. "Well, what can we do, Sophia?" he sighed. "I mean, I'm older than you, and I feel like the youngest. Our parents know of our plans, and the only way to get out of this place is…"
Matthew hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He didn't want to speak them aloud, but the truth had begun to fester in the dark corners of his mind.
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "Is what?" she demanded, her voice sharp, almost as if daring him to say it.
Matthew took a deep breath, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. "Is… kill them. Or have someone do it."
The silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever. The air between them was thick, heavy with the shock and horror of the idea. Sophia's mouth fell open, her expression one of disbelief, as if she couldn't quite process what Matthew had just said.
She blinked, staring at him for a moment before her shock melted into something darker—a kind of calculating coldness. Her breathing slowed, and she leaned back against the headboard of her bed, considering the words. "Kill them?" she echoed softly, her voice like ice.
Matthew couldn't meet her eyes. He stared at his hands, the guilt and fear gnawing at him. "I didn't mean it at first… but now… Now I think it's the only way."
Sophia stared at him in silence, her face unreadable as she digested the idea. In the distance, the hum of the house—the normal, mundane noises of a home—felt jarring in contrast to the darkness that had taken root in their thoughts.
Finally, Sophia spoke, her voice low, but with a deadly determination. "We do," she said, her tone like a vow. "We'll kill them. I would love to see their faces as they realize they're going to die."
Her words were chilling, but Matthew could see the glint of resolve in her eyes. She was serious. And more importantly, she seemed ready to go through with it.
That very day in the U.S., President Gerald Ford was preparing for the State of the Union Address, which would touch on a host of economic issues, including inflation and unemployment, but it would also see the President's growing unpopularity due to the Vietnam War's aftermath. The country was gripped by an economic crisis, and many Americans were struggling with the rising costs of living, much like how Sophia and Matthew were struggling in their own way to escape a form of oppression.
Meanwhile, across the world, in a different context, the Vietnam War was nearing its final stages, as the North Vietnamese forces continued their advance toward Saigon, signaling the end of the long and grueling conflict that had torn the country apart for over a decade. The world was on the cusp of major changes, just as Sophia and Matthew were about to make decisions that could transform their lives—decisions that were dangerous and final.
But here, in their small bedroom, the world felt a little smaller, and their decision was beginning to crystallize. Sophia and Matthew were driven by their own need for freedom. They were willing to cross any line to ensure they had a chance at a life away from their oppressive parents.
"I'm serious, Matthew," Sophia said, her voice dark. "This is the only way. They'll never let us go. They'll never stop trying to control us."
Matthew looked at her, his heart heavy. "I know. But the cost—"
"I don't care about the cost anymore," she interrupted, her voice growing more intense. "They deserve it. After everything they've done, after the way they've treated us, they deserve worse than death. We're not going to be the victims anymore."
Matthew swallowed hard. He didn't like where this was going, but there was a part of him—the part that had been broken down by years of abuse—that was starting to agree with her. The fear, the guilt, and the confusion began to fade, replaced by the growing need to take control of their own lives, even if it meant going down a dark path.
They were no longer the helpless children they had once been. They had taken matters into their own hands—and they were ready to cross the line.
Sophia looked at him, her eyes cold and determined. "We'll do it, Matthew. We'll plan it carefully. No one can know. But we're going to take them down. For good."
Matthew nodded, his face pale, but his eyes steely. "For good."
They both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision sinking in. Outside their room, the house was quiet, as if it, too, knew that things had changed forever.
Sophia stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the world beyond—the world that felt so distant and unreachable. "We'll make our move soon. We can't wait too long," she said, her voice quiet but filled with unrelenting resolve. "We'll leave this place. We'll be free."
Matthew stared after her for a moment, his mind racing with a hundred different scenarios. He had never imagined things would come to this. But now, there was no turning back.
They had made their decision.
And nothing could stop them now.
As the night stretched on, the shadows grew longer, the hours deeper. The air in the room was thick with the weight of their thoughts, both siblings lost in the seriousness of their plans. The tension was unbearable, each moment a step closer to something irreversible. Their parents, upstairs in their own rooms, had no idea of the storm that was brewing in their children's minds.
Matthew stood up, pacing the small space between the bed and the window. His feet shuffled along the worn carpet, the noise a soft echo in the stillness of the night. His mind buzzed, trying to think through every possible outcome, every risk. They had to be careful. They had to make it perfect.
"What do you think?" Matthew finally asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if even saying it out loud made the plan too real, too dangerous.
Sophia, still standing by the window, her back to him, turned to face him slowly. Her expression was serious, almost calculating. "I think it's the only way out. We've been trapped for too long, Matthew. We can't keep living like this."
She walked over to the bed, sitting down with a heavy sigh. Her hands fell in her lap, her eyes staring off into the distance. "I've spent too many years trying to make things work, trying to fix things that are beyond saving. I can't do it anymore. I won't let them win."
Matthew nodded, his own heart aching. He felt it too—the weight of the years of abuse, the years of their lives being stolen from them, the years of suffering that had brought them to this point. He had tried, in his own way, to shield his sister from it all, but now they were both consumed by the need for freedom, even if it meant sacrificing their own innocence.
"We'll need to plan this carefully," Matthew said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can't let them see it coming. They'll know if we're not careful."
Sophia nodded, her eyes narrowed as she thought about their next steps. "We need to make sure they never suspect us. We'll have to be smart. We'll use what we've learned from them—their routines, the times they're most vulnerable."
Matthew leaned against the wall, his eyes distant. "Do you really think we can pull this off?"
Sophia looked up, her gaze piercing through the darkness of the room. "We have no choice, Matthew. This is our only shot."
As the minutes stretched into hours, the air became heavier, the weight of their plans sinking deeper into their souls. The fear that had once gripped them now transformed into a cold, hard determination. They had no room for second-guessing. They were no longer children—they were fugitives planning the ultimate escape.
At some point, they decided to sleep, but neither of them really closed their eyes. Their minds were too occupied with what they had just decided, with the darkness they were about to plunge into. Their parents were too close, too dangerous, and every hour that passed meant that the risk grew greater. They couldn't waste any more time.
In the morning, they would start putting their plan into action.
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