All Is Fair In Love & War

Chapter 3: 'Prost'

Incapable of making alright decisions and having bad ideas.

The atoms through air are torn apart along with briting sound blade spin in rush until it hits the target. Pictures glued at the wooden plate have a gash in the middle of it, right at the side of their foreheads. My arm is lower in unison as I exhale, taking another blade between my fingers as I stare at the last picture.

Richard Adder. The man that killed my parents.

I threw one knife, but when it lands where his witted smile is painted on the picture that hit the news at the start of this school year, I'm not satisfied.

Cold metal is between my fingers when I open my fist, extending a hand backwards as two next blades hit his cheek, another two are in his eyes.

I imagine blood sipping out, slowly draining behind my knives while I watch from above.

I haven't officially met him yet. Arthur is not allowing me to get close, scared I might kill him on the spot.

There is a meeting with them right now, Mia and Arthur along with Richard, his brother and sister in law. I doubt the children were invited, there is still time for them to organize fake welcomes with pretty flowers and candles as Abigail and I are forced to share bread with them.

I spent that whole day in the basement in the training area, even a couple of hours in the shooting range. When I was sparring with Antonio, Abigail would sit in the corner reading War and Peace in Russian. She is doing better than I used to, learning Russian was the longest procedure I ever had to study through, but I pulled through it. Perfected it last year, after three full years of constant studying.

French and German were quite difficult, at least to me, but not as nearly. Italian was easy.

Arthur hasn't discussed the details of the meeting with me, only locked himself in a room with Mia as I layed on the bed bored, staring up at the ceiling. The doors creaked open, making me turn to the left and spot Abigail.

"Close the door." I told her after she took five steps into the room, leaving the doors fully open. She rolls her eyes, stepping slightly back and using her foot to close them as they slam on. She makes a face on the harsh noise, making me puff a blow of air. "Oh no, it's fine. Make sure to break them next time."

"Shut up." she tells me, diving down on my bed.

"What do you want?" I ask, using my foot to nudge the slippers of her feet, listening as they hit the floor.

She pulls herself up, crossing her legs as she looks down at me. I imagine what she sees, me on my back, arms resting lazily next to me, one hand on the pillow next to my hand and the other somewhere in the line with my body and legs.

"Are you bored?"

"Very." she nods at my answer, keeping her mouth shut with another question on her tongue. When she doesn't speak, a smaller pillow is pulled from the pile of them and in her face when she fails to catch it.

It falls down, her face offended when I say. "Either say what you want or let me enjoy doing nothing."

"I want to go out."

My face stays firmly impassive at that, opposite of her expectable and slightly annoyed expression. My head turns over the soft sheets, looking at her for way too long until I say. "No, you don't."

She isn't a person that loves going out. Would much rather spend hours locked in a silent room with no light than go out and suffocate in the presence of strangers.

We are sisters so it's not surprising that neither of us has any liking towards people. The difference is that I tend to ignore their presence and live in my own bubble even when I'm surrounded by them. She prefers not to be surrounded by them.