Finding the serial killer

Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Jake’s POV,

She pulled over her shirt and looks at me with eyes leaking little pearl drops out of them. she is red, she is insecure, she looked scared, naked, hurt. There is so much in her expression I can't read them all at once. Her eyes scrolled down taking me hand guiding it to her chest. She has to most beautiful chest I've ever seen but also the most hurt. I see scars, I see a failed attempt to cover them over with artistic ink.

“When you father was someone to hurt you the most, how can you learn to trust?” my eyes move up to her eyes and I feel so locked, so lost, destroyed for her.

I move close to her, hands close enough to be between our bodies. I engulfed her in me. she is buried in my chest, even though her loud cried somehow muffled with me, I still feel it in more than my ears.

She pulled back and from the back of her palm she made an attempt to wipe off all those strayed tears. She couldn’t, so I did it for her.

“My dad r***d my mom, she was young enough to be fooled for it as love. She got pregnant with me and had to marry dad. Even after I was born, he stayed the same monster. All my life, all my life I've seen him treating my mom like she is less than an animal. All my life my mom let me being treated the same.”

“You hated her for that?”

“I hate both of them. they gave birth to a life but they never one day look after me, cared for me. He beat me all my life, all my memories of him is just being scared of him. mom telling that I should go to my room whenever dad came home. She would lock me inside, she would tell me to hide under the bed. She would tell me to protect myself if dad did anything. it was just one time, it was my twelfth birthday. I've never got a cake before in my life, I got it today, for my birthday and a new dress. It wasn’t new actually, a friend let me borrow hers. It was this red dress, shiny, the most beautiful one I've ever seen. I looked like a mermaid in it. I looked great dad said and he locked me in my room. And he was in that room. And he took control over me. he was so freakin drunk. I felt like I would pass out. All his weight pressed against me. I lost grasp on reality. When I woke up I was naked, I was bloodied, I've lost everything that day, I wanted mom to know that, but she was dead on the floor right where I left my cake last night. The cake was all over the place, dad was on the floor his head bleeding, his hands bloodied. I called the police. They told me I was r***d, they told me my father killed my mom because she was trying to get him away from me, because she tried to call the cops on him. my dad was too scared, he confessed it all in no time and they took him. and I, I got lost in the system. I've lived in many foster homes, but I never could’ve made any of them my home, until I met Mrs. Sabra, I was sixteen, she was forty. She was the kind of a woman who taught me so much my mom never could’ve. And she loved me, she’s just lost her daughter, so she loved me like her. I tried to really be her daughter and I succeeded. I almost made it when I was told by the police that she was murdered. That was so unexpected, I pictured my whole life trying to be her daughter, but she never made it that far. She was killed for money by her ex-husband. I thought it’s only fair he dies too. I attacked him and then confessed to me crimes. I was sent to juvenile where I was diagnosed with severe depression. I was inflicting self-harm, I won't arm, I couldn’t sleep, I wasn’t eating. I was sent to a hospital for treatment. I was jabbed with pins and needles on all parts of my body. There were so many damages. I lived there for a year before returning back to the prison, I got all these tattoos from there, I was told it can lessen my pain, I was told it will help me move on from the past. It did, but just a small fraction of it. everything else stayed the same.”

“How did you become an officer?”

“When I turned eighteen the warden made me this deal. He would wipe off my slate and provide me a new identity if I donate everything I have inherited from Mrs. Sabra to an organisation that would help people like me. I took that offer, and now I'm here. with you, telling you why I am the way I am. Even when I'm trying so hard to run away from the past, it catches up with me everywhere. I'm sorry I can move past it.”

“I'm sorry for all that happened, I'm sorry that I ever forced you to tell me about it, I know those memories must be very painful for you.”

“They are. I'm telling you because you are important. I'm telling you because I want you to understand me a too. I've never told this to anyone but you.”

“I'll do everything, if you let me, that you won't have to remember bad days. There will only be good ones from now on.”

“That sounds definitely like something pleasant.”

I carried her to the bed and I put her on it like she is the most delicate thing in the world. I think she is and I think I need to be the one to put her back together.