The most difficult part of telling any story, is the beginning. You have to know what set the wheels in motion, and sometimes, that is the hardest thing that you will ever do. The easy stuff is choosing a name for a character, what kind of clothes they wear and how this effects their personality. Obviously, I am unable to tell you any honest specifics of how the life is live works, as I would be forced into quitting the habit i have of breathing. So, to ensure I remain alive, all the identities in this tale will be kept a secret. well- names will be generic anyway. And if you know those whom i write about- DON'T TELL THEM IT WAS ME! I may be out of practice but I am still effective.
Call me Rose. As I tell you this I am 14 but I may even be dead by the time you read this. In order to understand me and who i am (which you will need to know so that you can work out why I make the decisions- believe me- this is really important) I gotta put all cards on the table. I'm a foster kid. Dad was a serial killer, mum the best thief you'd ever meet. And then there was my older brother, Elliot and my sister Belladonna. Mum had a sense of humour. Elliot was a grifter (con man if you didn't know), and Belladonna was the so tech savvy that I used to swear she was a self writing computer program. Despite how we functioned, we were always loyal to each other and we always took care of each other. Usually they worked separately but they'd team up at times. There was an unspoken agreement between them though. They wouldn't teach me anything of their trades until i turned 8. I mean, before that i could throw a knife and shoot a gun for self defence but i wasn't allowed to learn anything else. Something about wanting me to have a regular childhood. In the space of two years I'd mastered all four trades and I'd surpassed their abilities aswell. They created me- the perfect criminal.
It was Belladonna I lost first. Yes, she was good with technology. But she didn't have any physical strength. She was working a job for a gang- and was gonna get good money for it. They needed her to hack the police system, delete the files and fabricate evidence reports. She'd just taken the money when a rival gang rolled in, guns blazing. She died instantly, never stood a chance. We couldn't have a funeral for her in case of discovery by our enemies. We mourned her in our own selective way.
Then all at once, mum, dad and Elliot were gone. It was Furough, the fist guy I ever went up against alone. I stole £4000 from him in one go, then i scammed him for another £50,000, to hack his files for all his information, his weak points, to finally kill his son who was raping kids. Anyway, we were chatting when mum heard a car pull up. Elliot went outside to see who it was, and got shot. Mum deadbolted the door shut as dad said to me "Rosie. Breathe. Think strategically. Go through the tunnel and survive. We love you". Then he put me in the cupboard that had a secret door to the tunnel and i got out. I hid in the forest behind our house. I climbed a tree and no matter how hard I try, I still can't get the sound of screaming out my head. I watched my home go up in flames.
And that is how the story of a lifetime begins.