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Kid of a Killer

by Mickeystwin33


I held back my tears as I slowly walked home from school, wishing I did not have to go. I finally got close enough to see that house, my house, that I despised. I looked in the driveway and was thankful he was not there. I went inside, glad no one was home, and raced up the stairs into my bedroom. Then, I broke down and started bawling, I leaned against the hard side of my bed for comfort.

I dried half of my tears and still crying reached under my pillow and took out the bottle. It was orange and I played with it hearing each pill hit the side of the bottle. I knew they would kill me quickly, it would be an easy suicide, but I didn’t want to die. I just wanted out of my life. I looked at my dresser and saw my mother's picture sitting there.

She was beautiful, nothing like me. Her name was Melissa Robin. She had dark hair and beautiful hazel eyes. I was stuck with golden hair and blue/green eyes like my father. Looking at that picture I realized my mother would not want me to give up, but I thought again and realized she could never understand what was happening, and I would not want her to.

She didn’t have to know that in the five years since she has died my father has gone crazy and murdered ten women. She doesn’t need to know how he beats them and chains them, trying to make every family feel his loss. I could never tell her what it has done to me. How it has broken me from the happy ten year old she knew to a hopeless fifteen year old. I could not show her all the cuts and bruises I have from him. How I have grown to hate him, because five short years ago we were happy, all of us.

When my mother died in a car accident things got bad, a year later when my father lost his grandparents he made me pack up and we moved. We moved ten times since they died. I hated moving, I wished I didn't have to go always hoping that someday, maybe my life would get better.

I had just laid down to go to sleep when I heard him coming up the stairs. He opened up my door. “Come with me,” he said and ran downstairs. I followed him, in my PJ’s.

“Where are we going?” I asked, flinching away to avoid being hit.

“You’ll see,” he said in a creepy voice. The voice of a killer, not of my father. At one point that was my father, but not now, now he was a cold-blooded murderer.

“Hold this,” he said getting in the car, and motioning me to follow, with a huge sharp silver knife, a killing device, his favorite. I had to hold myself back to keep myself from shaking. He had never taken me to watch him kill, and I did not want to watch.

‘Maybe he’ll kill me’ I thought and then shivered at the thought. I did not want to die that way, but it might be better then having to watch someone else die. ‘No,’ I thought he wouldn’t kill his own daughter, would he?


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Sat Dec 04, 2021 9:29 am
HarryHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This is a pretty well executed start here for this story...I really loved the setup you create with the backstory and then that cliffhanger to end on. The transition between the two parts could do with some improving but otherwise, this is pretty solid.

Anyway let's get right to it,

I held back my tears as I slowly walked home from school, wishing I did not have to go. I finally got close enough to see that house, my house, that I despised. I looked in the driveway and was thankful he was not there. I went inside, glad no one was home, and raced up the stairs into my bedroom. Then, I broke down and started bawling, I leaned against the hard side of my bed for comfort.

I dried half of my tears and still crying reached under my pillow and took out the bottle. It was orange and I played with it hearing each pill hit the side of the bottle. I knew they would kill me quickly, it would be an easy suicide, but I didn’t want to die. I just wanted out of my life. I looked at my dresser and saw my mother's picture sitting there.


Okay, a powerful moment here to get things started. We have someone who is in some very obvious and also very serious sounding distress there and she appears to be teetering at a dangerous ledge where she is genuinely considering and has a plan for suicide. This is quite the moment here to get started on. Certainly gets your attention right away.

She was beautiful, nothing like me. Her name was Melissa Robin. She had dark hair and beautiful hazel eyes. I was stuck with golden hair and blue/green eyes like my father. Looking at that picture I realized my mother would not want me to give up, but I thought again and realized she could never understand what was happening, and I would not want her to.

She didn’t have to know that in the five years since she has died my father has gone crazy and murdered ten women. She doesn’t need to know how he beats them and chains them, trying to make every family feel his loss. I could never tell her what it has done to me. How it has broken me from the happy ten year old she knew to a hopeless fifteen year old. I could not show her all the cuts and bruises I have from him. How I have grown to hate him, because five short years ago we were happy, all of us.


Oh wow, that is quite something there. Normally I am not a big fan of backstory being dumped on us at the very start of a story, but in this situation, this plays rather nicely I think the tone of this opening by giving us the minute highlights of the horrors she has had to undergo and what has driven her to the point she's at now.

When my mother died in a car accident things got bad, a year later when my father lost his grandparents he made me pack up and we moved. We moved ten times since they died. I hated moving, I wished I didn't have to go always hoping that someday, maybe my life would get better.

I had just laid down to go to sleep when I heard him coming up the stairs. He opened up my door. “Come with me,” he said and ran downstairs. I followed him, in my PJ’s.

“Where are we going?” I asked, flinching away to avoid being hit.

“You’ll see,” he said in a creepy voice. The voice of a killer, not of my father. At one point that was my father, but not now, now he was a cold-blooded murderer.


Okay...well, things flashing forward in a slightly awkward fashion there. The deaths of the people that helped her stay sane is another good addition but that sudden switch to what appears to be the present is a little too sudden I think. You need to be a tiny bit more careful there.

“Hold this,” he said getting in the car, and motioning me to follow, with a huge sharp silver knife, a killing device, his favorite. I had to hold myself back to keep myself from shaking. He had never taken me to watch him kill, and I did not want to watch.

‘Maybe he’ll kill me’ I thought and then shivered at the thought. I did not want to die that way, but it might be better then having to watch someone else die. ‘No,’ I thought he wouldn’t kill his own daughter, would he?


Hmm, well I wouldn't put it past someone like that to do so. BUt umm, despite that slightly iffy transition, this ending is very well done I think. There's just the right amount of terror created here and it makes for a lovely cliffhanger to end on.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall, I think you have a pretty solid piece here. This is certainly off to quite the start here and I certainly found it interesting enough that I'd want to read more. :D

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry




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Fri Jun 17, 2011 8:16 am
Alliaaryn5665 says...



Hi,

Many errors. Keep trying.

Farewell,
A.




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Thu Jun 16, 2011 11:23 pm
tgirly wrote a review...



mother's picture, not mothers picture. she knew, not see knew. There should be period after He opened the door not a comma. There should be a comma between the voice of a killer and not my father. At one point THAT not the was my father but not NOW, NOW he was a cold-blooded murderer not know.
It's creepy. A little too creepy for me. But that's just my opinion.





Don't turn them loose, Jack.
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