Silhouettes of America [Completed]

4.1: Dark | Avery

Current Time: Tuesday, 22:20 EST
Current Location: San Francisco, California, USA - 37.7749*N, 122.4194*W

Although I wasn't in the mood to work, I have to. Money is everything, as Tanya proved to me this morning. I needed to get some cash to aid my mission of finding Jacob Collins around every corner of America.

That night, I left home without telling the Sandlers. I still felt bad for putting them into a shameful situation. To Mrs. Sandlers, for saying she regretted adopting me. To myself, because I'm a daughter of a terrorist.

I walked on the dark streets of San Francisco alone. The streetlights gave off a wistful vibe and the chilly atmosphere seeped through my skin. "Phew." I placed my arms across my chest to radiate warmth; my bag's getting heavier on my back. I looked at the moon above; it was so round and beautiful, but lonely. The scenery made me sad and my mind reeled back to the past.

My mom died when I was only three. Marina was a social worker in Louisiana where an epidemic flu broke out in town which infected half of Louisiana's citizens including her. I felt sad for forgetting what she looked like. However, when I gazed into the mirror, I thought I was seeing her face for dad once said that Marina is a red-head and I looked a lot like her.

We moved to Sacramento and I lived a normal life with my dad; our house far from the city proper. When I turned 5, I went to school on weekdays and had quite a few friends. On weekends, I was trained to be a fighter by my dad. When I turned 11, things began to change.

I was sitting on my bed one afternoon, bandaging my wounds when my dad called me. "Avery," he said. He opened the door wide and peeked inside. "I think it's time for you to know what my job is."

"What is it dad?"

"I'm an assassin. I kill people for money. See the house we live in? See the clothes you wear? See the food we eat? It's the money I get from killing people."

"What?" I asked in disbelief. I felt a heavy thing in my heart, like a rock was standing on it. No, it can't be. My dad is a good man; he wasn't a killer.

"And now I need you to dig me a hole in the backyard for I just killed a wealthy businessman."

My tears began to flow like water gushing from the faucet. I started panting and he held my shoulders fiercely. "Remember what I told you kid? NO TEARS!" he yelled, emphasizing the last phrase. I nodded soberly and wiped my tears using my palms.

He bent down and looked at me in the eyes. "Now, what are you gonna say, kid?"

"The weak dies in the hands of the strong. My nemesis may die but I'll live. I'll live because I am strong."

This had always been the way our conversation went off at the end of the day, when I finished my training. It was like a creed that Jacob Collins instilled in my mind.

He patted my head. "Good girl. You're really compliant," he said. He was grinning, showing no glint of grief in his face. I hated him; he didn't show some remorse for his act. Killing people for money? Murdering the man who could've helped more of Sacramento's citizens? Training his daughter to hurt people? What a devil's advocate.

I went outside and started digging in the backyard. I sighed deeply. Why did my life have to be like this? Why am I a daughter of a killer?

I was digging nonstop for hours when a hard thing hit the back of my head and I crashed onto dirt. "Ugh!" I grunted. My eyes stung like it caught something.

"So Jacob had a petite daughter," a voice of a man said from behind. Before I could turn to look at him, a pair of hands grabbed me. "Let me go!" I yelled as I struggled to get out of his hold. He punched my gut to stop me from moving and the next thing I knew, everything went black.