She is a horrible woman!
It is almost like the old fairy tales of Cinderella and Snow white: the sweet, warm mother dies. The good and kind-hearted father remarries again to provide a mother for his child. Only for her to be the worst person on the face of the earth who does nothing but torment that child.
This sums up my life pretty well.
Except, instead of a step-daughter she has a step-son and instead of forcing me to do chores and work me like a servant, she torments me with her madness and accusations, and venomous words Not a day passes by without her telling me that I should have died in the fire with my mother. That I am evil, sly and will do anything to destroy her.
Yet, her paranoia never mattered to me. That is, not until it touched my father…
Lately, a new idea has taken root in her mind. She believed that my father was cheating on her since he is home very rarely and most of the time travelling because of his work, and while he sometimes takes me with him, he never allows her to accompany him. Somehow, she blamed me for this assumed betrayal.
One night my aunt came for a visit, and I confided in her about her paranoia and doubts. But fate was against me then; she heard every word we said, how my aunt was unsympathetic and believed she would deserve it if my father truly cheated on her. In her madness she decided to confront me after my aunt left, but she could find nothing to say since it would mean admitting she was listening in on our conversation. So, she latched into the first excuse she could find, and that was me stealing father's ring which I was wearing. She flew in rage then, and demanded to know how I came by it and how ashamed my father would be when he realise I stole it . I tried to explain then that yes, he knows, that he is the one who gave it to me as a promise to never let anything bad happen to me. That he will always be with me and never leave me, which was the truth. She called me a liar, and in that moment, mad and fool that I am, I had a demonic urge to toy with her mind, so I told her, 'or maybe I'm having an affair with my father as well! After all, he is my type: good looks, kind, gentle, has a great sense of humour, and can kick ass when needed. We all know how dangerous he can be, and we all know who comes first with him!'
That was a mistake though. A childish need to spite that caused her to strike at me for the first time and vow to see my father dead if that was the case!
And I knew, then, that my father would be ashamed of my childish behaviour.
And I remembered, I remembered the night he gave me the ring.
It was late at night, almost dawn, and I was feeling very lonely and despondent; that day was my birthday and the day my mother was killed. I went to his room then. But to my surprise he was awake already, with a gun in his hand. Before I knew it, he was standing with a hand over my mouth, stopping my barge of questions and shushing me, indicating that I should listen. I did. And what I heard froze my blood. Our home was under attack. Again! I started to panic. Almost stopped breathing altogether. Only to hear his whisper that everything will be alright and that I should trust him. He left me then standing in the middle of his darkened bedroom, exiting through the patio door to our garden. Time passed, 5, 10, 15 minutes, and I was getting anxious by the second. Then I heard a gunshot, and my heart all but stopped. What if this is my father who was shot?! What if he was hurt and bleeding his life out! Right before I started screaming, alerting the whole house to what was happening I saw him returning, barely visible in the faint pre-dawn light. I lost all control then and launched myself into his arms sopping and crying and begging him not to leave me, ever!
At that point, he gave me his ring. A promise, he said, that he will always be there for me. And that he always keeps his promises.
When I asked about the intruder later, when I was much calmer, I was informed that it was nothing but some trespasser. That they fled as soon as he fired his gun. I never knew if he was lying to me to keep from panicking again or if that was the truth.
After my altercation with this monster, I decided to confide in my father about what she has done and said. To beg him to divorce her. Anything that will rid us of her.
Next day after school I decided to pay him a visit at his office, so we will be able to speak freely without her shadow over us. As soon as he saw me he realised there was something wrong, seeing how depressed and anxious I was. Though, before I could tell him anything of value, people starting pouring into the office. A very important meeting he said. I wanted to scream, shout and kick them all out, forcing him to listen to me! His life was on the line, and the worst thing is that I was the cause of it!
Though, right then, before I could make a scene, I realised something. What would my father be able to do? Nothing! Divorce will only make her more dangerous. With startling clarity I knew what must be done, and I was ready to do it.
She had to die.
So, tonight, the Annual Funtom Gala is being held in our mansion. At the other end of the ballroom I see a servant giving her a champagne glass laced with a very strong poison procured from one of father's underground acquaintances. I see her drinking it and watching my father socialising with our guests with a hand upon my small shoulder, introducing me to business partners and old friends alike. I see her get faint and flee the room.
A smile graces my lips.
By this time tomorrow, there will be fake shock and disbelieve. Maybe even some tears. No one will ever suspect what I have done. Except, maybe, for the knowing look my father will threw my way every now and then. And he will know. He will know that his sweet, precocious, prodigy of a son is a suitable heir after all for the Queen's Watchdog, the Evil Nobleman.
No true regret or horror will every shadow my heart for this.
After all, she was a horrible woman.