My parents made my sister and I live in an RV for 16 years. I just found out horrifying reason why. My name is Jake and for 16 years we never stayed anywhere longer than 3 weeks. We lived in an RV, always parked deep in the woods, always moving. My parents said we were special and that's why we had to keep running. My twin sister Lily and I thought it was normal. We were homeschooled, isolated, never allowed friends. Mom and dad said bad people were looking for us. They'd wake us up at 2:00 a.m. pack in 10 minutes anddrive for hours without stopping. I remember one night in Utah when dad was driving 90 mph down back roads with the headlights off, constantly checking the mirrors. The first time I realized something was wrong was when we were camping outside Spokane. Lily and I were 12 and snuck out while our parents slept. We took a flashlight and walked 50 yards when we saw her. A woman stood between the trees staring at us. She looked wrong. Pale modeled skin, torn hospital gown, greasy hair. But the worst part was her eyes. They were thesame exact color as Lily's. That rare gray green that almost looked silver. She reached out with shaking hands and made this horrible sound. My Bobbies. Lily grabbed my arm and we ran back. The next morning, there were muddy handprints smeared across every window like someone had been desperately trying to get in. Dad saw them and immediately started packing. We were gone within an hour. After that, I saw her everywhere. Nevada, Montana, Colorado. Always at the edge of our campsites at exactly 3:17a.m. Always reaching for us, always making that same broken crying sound. Lily started having nightmares. She'd wake up screaming about a woman calling for her children, describing details she couldn't know, like the woman's hospital bracelet or her binged bare feet. Mom would give her pills and tell her to go back to sleep. Everything changed 3 days before our 16th birthday. Mom and dad left to get supplies, which they never did together. This time, they both went and locked us inside the RV with apadlock. Lily was going through mom's things when she found a box hidden under their mattress wrapped in black plastic. Inside were newspaper clippings, police reports, and birth certificates. The birth certificates had our names, Jake Daniel Brooks and Lily Rosebrooks, but the parents listed weren't mom and dad. They were Daniel Brooks and Rachel Brooks. Maybe we were adopted. Lily Whispered pulling out a newspaper clipping. Newborn twins stolen from Portland Hospital August 15, 2008. Mother found murdered in recovery room.There was a photo of a woman in a hospital bed holding two babies. She had Lily's eyes, my nose, and a birth mark on her wrist that matched mine. The caption read, "Rachel Brooks, 23, with her newborn twins, Jake and Lily. Hours before her murder, Lily started crying." That woman in the woods, that's our real mom. The article said Rachel Brooks had been smothered with a pillow while the baby slept in the nursery. Security footage showed a man and woman in stolen scrubs leaving through a back exit withtwo infants at 3:17 a.m. The police sketches looked exactly like our parents. There were more articles. A man in Oregon who'd spotted us at 5:00 and tried to call police. He was found beaten unconscious with a note pinned to his shirt. Mind your own business. That was the story dad told us about shooting someone who tried to hurt us, but he'd been trying to save us. At the bottom was a recent newspaper. Local man never stopped searching for stolen children. A photo showed a man holding schoolpictures of kids who looked exactly like us. Daniel Brooks has spent eight years searching for his stolen children. Someone took my babies and killed my wife. Lily was sobbing. Jake, we have to find him. That's when we heard her voice outside clearer than ever. Hi, Bobbies. We looked out and she was right next to the RV, face pressed against the glass. Her hospital gown had our blood types written on it and faded in. Rachel, Lily whispered. The woman's eyes went wide. She nodded frantically and pointed tothe road, then held up eight fingers. Eight years she'd been trying to lead us home. Go! She mouth, find him. We grabbed the box and climbed out the back window. Rachel walked with us through the woods, leading us toward the main road. She kept looking back like she was watching for our kidnappers to return. It took 2 hours to walk to the nearest town. When we stumbled into the police station, dirty and crying, holding the clippings, everything happened fast. DNA tests, phone calls. Within 6 hours, aman was flying in from Portland. When Daniel Brooks walked in and saw us for the first time in 8 years, he fell to his knees and cried harder than I'd ever seen. Jake, Lily, my babies. I never stopped looking for you. We didn't cry. This stranger was our father, but the people who raised us were the ones who murdered our real mother. The people we called mom and dad were arrested that night. They're serving life sentences for murder and kidnapping. Living with Daniel was weird at first. Having abedroom with a locked door, going to actual school, not running every few weeks. Lily adapted faster, but we both struggled with trusting people after learning our childhood was built on lies. 3 months later, I woke up at 3:17 a.m. and saw Rachel outside my bedroom window, but she looked different. Peaceful. Her skin had color again. Her hospital gown was clean and white. She pressed her hand against the glass and mouththed, "Thank you. My babies are safe." She whispered, "I can rest now."I watched her fade away like morning mist. Lily saw her too from across the hall. We never saw Rachel again. But sometimes when I'm having bad dreams about the RV or the people who stole, I feel like someone's watching over me. Someone who loved me enough to spend 8 years wandering through forests, trying to lead her children home. The people who took us thought they could run forever. They thought they could hide us so deep that no one would find us. But they forgot about a mother's love.
