Antonio's POV His Back Story
642 Words
I noticed the hammer missing, I didn't think she could have taken it. But I couldn't find it anywhere. She is a very sneaky b***h.
I went to the cellar to confront her. She's going to regret this.
When I came across the picture.
I forgot it was even here. It was my mother, and me. It was the only picture I had of her. I stole it from my first father when I was young.
I don't remember her much. He never talked about her.
I was born in this house. My father was a violent drunk. I wasn't allowed outside, unless I was being forced down here in the cellar. He used it as a punishment when I wasn't acting how he wanted. When I wasn't locked down here, I was locked in my room.
I remember the last time I seen him. It was the best day of my life. I was locked in my room. I had no clothes on. I had peed my pants and he pulled them off me and threw me in my room without food all day.
I was 7 yrs old at the time. I never knew how to read, or write, and even talking I could barely put a sentence together.
I heard yelling and screaming. I didnt know what was going on. I hid in the corner of my room. When the door was kicked open. "Boss, theres a baby in here." Boss came in to check. Thats when I met my real father. The one who took care of me and gave me a better life. The one Jax took from me.
He put his gun away, and slowly approached me. Something about his voice made me feel safe. Probably because he wasn't yelling at me. Instantly I ran to him for a hug and refused to let him go. He hugged me back.
He carried me out. We passed my dad, he was laying on the floor covered in blood. I will never forget how happy I was when I seen him like that.
He carried me outside to the car. I have never even been in a car. I was scared to go, but he got in still holding me. I don't remember much after that except for what my real dad told me.
He said that I held him the whole way back to Morocco. He didn't know I was 7 until he had the drs check me out when we arrived. He thought I was maybe 3 or 4.
His wife died a yr ago durring child birth. So he was a single dad raising a 1 yr old already. My baby brother. To be honest we were at the same stage developmentally.
He had seen some horrible things in his line of work, but never anything like that. According to him. It took years for me to catch up and be somewhat normal.
I always said I would never be like my 1st dad. Looking towards Kristy I stand up. "It's not my son, it's my mother, and me, and she's dead." I didn't even care about the hammer now. I just got up and left. Taking the picture with me
I hated that because of Kristy I had no choice, but to come back here. No one except my father and me knew it even existed. And no one knew my real name either. I even forgot it. Until I seen it written on the photo. "Samantha and Oliver." Oliver... I definitely don't like that name. Wonder if my mom named me that for a reason.
I wonder what happened to her. Shes probably buried on this property somewhere. I'll never know.
This was a lot to take in. I'm not much of a drinker, but I decided to go to the store anyways.
- Writer
