Hidden Feelings ( A Loki FanFiction )

Twisted

My father was a cruel man. He abused my mother daily until she could not take it any longer. She killed herself with a knife across her neck, right before my eyes. Her last words to me were, "Please live for me. I love you."

Even though I knew my father was the cause of my mother's death, I didn't dare say a word as I was afraid of him. I was still dependant on him for survival.

My father then remarried and had a girl, called Sarah. He showered her and her mother with so much love, always giving Sarah gifts and comparing me with her.

He always beats me everytime he sees me and says very hurtful things like : Your mother deserves to die! Why can't you follow her and die? Sarah is so much better than you!

Even though he's the cause of my pain, I so wanted to show him I am better in every way. I get beaten everytime.

Sarah is a real bitch, so is her mother. Seeing how our father treated me this way, she always abuses me with words and her actions, even though she's younger. I retaliated once, and I ended up with bruises all over and a week with hardly any food or water, courtesy of my father.

One day, I decided enough was enough. If I wasn't rid of them, I would go crazy. I think, on that day, something snapped in me. I felt murderous, I felt.... nothing. Other than wanting to kill those who had hurt me.

When Sarah and my father went out for school and work, Lisa, Sarah's mother, would be alone at home. I don't get to go to school because apparently,  I am not 'worth it'.

I had meticulously planned my hunting time to coincide with the time Sarah is about to come home.

When Lisa was cooking, I grabbed my penknife and sneaked up behind her. I called her name. She turned and I stabbed her neck with my penknife, taking care not to push in too deep as I wanted her to be half alive. Her eyes widened in shock and pain and I quickly grabbed the staple gun which my dad owned from where I had hidden it, and stapled her lips shut.

Tears leaked from her eyes as I dragged her to her bedroom. I took care not to let any blood drip on the ground. I laid her on her bed, her blood soaking the sheets. I used her blood to paint the walls of her room, using gloves of course. I didn't want her dirty blood staining me.

I had waited patiently for Sarah to come home in time for lunch. I heard the doorknob turn and I quickly hid in the bathroom which was one room away from Lisa. I took a roll of industrial strength cling wrap I had found in my father's toolbox.

I heard footsteps down the hallway, probably Sarah wanting to ask Lisa as to why she left the stove on. I heard a scream as Sarah discovered my 'art'.

I came from my hiding place and walked up to Sarah. She didn't know I was behind her. I wrapped the roll of cling wrap tightly around her face, cutting off her air supply. Her arms was flailing like crazy and she tried poking holes into the cling wrap. Obviously I didn't allow it.

I used up almost the whole roll of cling wrap when Sarah stopped struggling. I made sure she was dead by plunging my lovely knife in between her eyes.

I dragged Sarah into Lisa's room and hoisted her up on Lisa's bed. Surpringly,  she was still alive. Oh well. No matter.

It was four hours later when my father came back home. I had spent the time packing what little possessions I had in a little bag and I also made sure to grab whatever jewelry and money in the house. I made sure my trusty penknife was securely in my hands.

He screamed when he saw my presents to him. I stepped out from behind the door, penknife behind my back.

"Hello father. Do you like it? I made it myself! Are you finally proud of me?"I had said.

"You sick bitch! You are stupid and pathetic and sick, just like your mother!" he spat.

My mother. He dared speak of her. My blood boiled. I charged towards him and with a strength I didn't know I possessed, managed to pin him face down in the ground.

 

"This is for mother" I hissed. I had pulled him up by his hair and slid my penknife across his neck. I left him there to choke in his blood.

I cleaned my beautiful knife, picked up my bag, closed the windows and turned on the gas. I left the house and headed to a nearby town which I knew had a dirt cheap motel.

A day later, I heard on the news that my ex home had been razed to the ground by fire. No foul play was suspected and the authorities say the cause of the fire was a gas leak.

No mention of me. They will never know it's me. That's because no one knew of my existence. I had no friends, I never went to school and I had no relatives. I am not even alive to the authorities. I was born in secret, in my home.

I was a castaway.