A drabble on Beckett's thoughts after the new findings in her mother's murder case.
Would I become a murderer to kill that fret?
No, I wouldn't.
Would I want to spend years, maybe until the end of my life, in jail?
No, I wouldn't.
Would I throw everything away just for the sake of revenge?
No, I wouldn't.
It's true that I have to honor my mother's legacy, and her memory, but I'd never become a killer. Especially because I don't seek vengeance, I seek for peace, closure. More than anything, I think my mother would want me to be happy. And I have it now. Why would I throw it to lose?
At least now I can and give a face to the man who haunted me for fourteen years. Now I know who he is. I'll recognize him by distance, and so will he recognize me. He gave me a scar without me asking for it, so he deserves to have one as well. And now, every day, when he looks himself in the mirror and see it there, in his face, it will remind him of me. It will remind him that I have him on a string and that I overthrew him when I want. Just a shake, and he falls.
Because he is weak. He lives out of appearances, survives on the other's fears, and lives to tantalizes, just to keep everything in silence, and continue to be the biggest, the untouchable. But, enough of having to be me to be afraid. Enough with everything. Now it's his turn to be afraid. And he should be afraid, because he doesn't know what I'm capable of.
He doesn't know me.
He didn't know my mother.
He didn't know her and yet he had the nerve to apologize for her death. He cleaned from his hands her blood, even though he's as guilty as the man who wielded the knife. What he doesn't recall is that he cleaned my blood from his hands too. I'm part of my mother. He's responsible for me being shot and that seemed to be the excuse to throw me out of the game as well. I simply knew too much, I was well prepared. But my mother wasn't prepared.
But I am, and I'll continue to be. At first threat, and I attach. Mercilessly.
And then he'll regret the day this all game started. The day this came became big. The day I lost the power of the game and let him control the pieces.
But now it's my move. Checkmate… the Queen lives… the King is dead…
Checkmate in Persian actually means "the Kind is dead"
On the story cover, the King's piece is down and the one that is standing is the Queen.
Can I get any review, please?