I did not understand the value of human life until I commited ultimate sin. Though I didn't want to, I was forced too. I was forced to by my mother's hand. She was the coward but... I knew I was too. I didn't stop her from making me do this. I was too afraid to.
My parents forced me into so many things I couldn't keep track until I bought my own bulletin board for all the activities. At the same time I was relieved to no longer have my parents around. My mother put me in foster care, lying that she couldn't provide for me. Everything was a lie. I don't remember the story my mother told the cops, I can't even register even talking to them. Soon I was up for adoption.
"Who are you waiting for? The Reaper himself?" My mother's derisive voice said. I held the knife over father's throat, trying to get a good aim on the jugular vein. Strange, I shouldn't be thinking of how to kill my father. Mother told me to just kill him with whatever and do it.
"Kill him already."
"Can I ask you something before I do?" My grip on the knife became slick but I firmly held it.
Scoffing she answered, "A quick one."
"Why do you want me to kill father?"
Narrowing her eyes, she walked over and leaned forward, pointing to the vein that throbbed in my sleeping father's neck. "Right there Jason." She took a few steps back. I couldn't stop myself from listening to her. I sliced. I never did know why she wanted me to kill him, a fifteen-year old boy.
Until I graduated from college I saw her, though one who wasn't related couldn't have recognized her. Her cheeks were still that of a childs, ringlets of brown cascaded down her back, her lips like pink petals. I knew at least that the cops didn't have enough evidence to find the killer who was right in front of them, but my mom asked them to not question me. She was just about to walk past me but I said forthright, "Plastic sugery, Mum?" She froze on the sidewalk. From what I remember her breasts weren't Ds. Her face slightly altered, her legs too skinny. "Was it prostitution that paid for it?"
She whipped her head towards me, her curls bouncing, and then looking up at me, seeing as I had grown much over the years. "Jason?"
"A quick question. Why did you want me to kill him?"
She studied my face for a long while, then answered, "So I could get rid of you."
"What a great mother you are," I said sarcastically, my eyes straying towards the moving traffic.
"Though it wasn't your father you killed."
I choked on the air I was inhaling and demanded, "So who is my father?"
"Was your father. I killed him."
Huh. "So what did he do? My fake father?"
"He was about to find out that he wasn't the dad, so I had you kill him because I'd rather him think that his son killed him. Torture him a little."
"Why did you kill my real father then?" I narrowed my eyes.
"He tried to kill me, but I wanted to kill him for awhile..."
"Why?"
She smiled. "Because he got me pregnant." Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. A week later I shot her in the head. Best damn thing I've ever felt proud of. A thing that I wasn't forced to do. Because I wanted to.