Young Writers Society

“It started when I was three years old, my father, he started beating me and I knew what was happening even though that sounds impossible. He would come in every night, my mother following, though at the time I didn’t know that he was beating my mother too. Anyway, he’d come into my room acting all sweet as if he wasn’t going to do anything and he’d beat me. It always started with my mom telling him not to, she’d try everything just to convince him to walk away, that he didn’t have to do it, that he was drunk. Of course, he knew he was drunk but he thought I deserved everything he did. He’d use his hands to pick me up and throw me to the floor and as surprising as it is, I never once cried, I was strong. He’d then punch and kick me constantly until I was nothing more than limp on the floor. Then he’d leave and my mother would sit with me until it was her turn to be beat and by the end of the night, we’d both be lying on the floor, whimpering.”
Annabeth was just staring at him intently, though he could tell she was shivering with cold. He pulled her next to him without thinking and realized that it was the first time in a long time he’d held a girl this close. “As I got older, things got worse, much worse, he started beating me more often and he’d beat me longer every time. I eventually was a freshman in high school, three years ago, when I grew tired of him. I’d had a steady girlfriend named Jasmine, who was the prettiest girl I’d seen by far, back then, and we’d been dating for a month, that’s the longest a girl had ever stayed with me once they found out about my father. Of course, I’d grown older and with time I had begun to fight back, but I was outnumbered, considering he’d managed to talk my mother into helping him beat me and she’d agreed after he’d promised to take her on a cruise once every month. My girlfriend came over that night, she was making dinner when my dad said he needed to talk to her about me, she agreed, even though I tried to talk her out of it, and while I was out “running errands” as my mom called it, my father raped and murdered my girlfriend. When I got home and found her dead, I was pissed; I ran upstairs into my room and grabbed my rifle. In two bullets my parents were dead and in a matter of five minutes, I was arrested and sentenced to three months in jail.”
Annabeth froze when he mentioned his dead girlfriend Jasmine and then barely managed to form words. “So this is why you are the way you are?” she asked him, her voice a whisper in the empty room. “No, not at all. The reason I am the way I am because I wanted to be and so I am,” he wrapped her up in his arms tighter and she groaned. “Please,” she murmured, low enough for him to hear. “Please what?” he demanded, his voice layered with passion and lust. “Please, don’t,” she tore away from him and started crying. He walked over to her sobbing figure on the floor and sat down, “what’s wrong?” he was asking her that genuinely, more genuinely than she thought was possible. “It’s just, the last guy I was with, he well, he raped me,” she wrapped her arms around herself and out her head between her knees. “I would never do that to you Annabeth, ever, this guy needs to be beat, better yet, he needs to be killed.” “No,” she was back on her feet in a matter of seconds. “Well,” he was shocked considering she decided to kill her parents, “why not?” he asked her smiling. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that information,” and that was when he knew.
No matter how convincing she was, he knew it was just another spy, just another loathsome girl who came into his world and then left it, begging him to forgive her. He’d known all along, seen the charm bracelet on her wrist that had a black cross on it and different markings on it, he knew she was a spy, and he hadn’t doubted it. Most spies tended to play games, they wanted more information about him, the sad thing was, he’d fallen for this one. He’d actually thought she was a spy but years of training with his father had strengthened his mind barriers. But he’d broken down. He couldn’t believe he’d actually shared some information, no matter how small, with a spy. “You..” he turned around to face her once more; but she was already gone. Just like that, another spy in and then out, but this time he knew he had to chase her down, no matter how in like he was with her. She was a spy who knew about his past, what hurt him most was the fact he knew came with hunting her down, not only did he have to find her. He had to kill her.