Growing up, my instincts turned pretty unmanageable. I'd try suicide to see how dying feels like, I had to force my hands to not reach out to knives in the kitchen and try stabbing the first person in sight, and I grew to hate everyone. But then, one day everything went totally out of hand.
The first person I killed was my sister Johana. And that changed my life forever.
I was 12 and still have to get out of childhood. That's when our dad came with the exciting news that we'll be moving back to our old hometown after staying with our uncle for a year in Australia. On the plane ride, Johana wouldn't shut her mouth about the plane food not being her type and whatnot. I ignored her whining and resumed eating my burger, which took most of my pocket money to buy.
When we reached home, I was sent directly to bed. Of course, some of my cousins would probably be coming to greet them on being back and mom and dad would be embarrassed of me to show me around like they do to their perfect daughters or their adorable baby boy. I just huffed and sat on my bed, reading Harry Potter. Yes, I was a Potterhead.
I tossed and turned, trying to sleep after reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets for the 37th time. Then I realized that I was hungry. And that created a problem.
You see, there was a rule in the family to not sneak out past bedtime, and if we did, we were grounded no matter what. I didn't wanna be grounded this week because my crush was organizing her birthday party and she invited everyone in the class, including me. No way in hell I would miss that opportunity to get closer to her, even though everyone in the class hates and bullies me.
I tiptoed to the lower floor of the house, even holding my breath so that I wouldn't create a sound. I was about to open the fridge, expecting my favorite chocolate ice cream when a voice made me stop dead in my tracks.
"You're not supposed to be out here after bedtime, you know?" Johana's edgy voice echoed in my head as adrenalin rushed to my stomach. Keeping my cool, I turned to see her leaning against the counter, her spoiled but beautiful face looking at me in mock confusion. I was done for. If my family found out about this, I'll never get my chance to grab my only hope, my crush. I just wanted to get out of the mess, and without thinking straight, jumped on her. She tried to scream but I pressed my thumb on a certain place on her neck, almost choking her, and covered her mouth with my free hand. Using the second she was caught off guard, I rushed to the door and locked it. But Johana didn't make a sound after that. She smirked at me.
"Aren't you ashamed to even call yourself a Miller?"
My blood boiled and I gritted my teeth. But I let her continue because of the state I was in, close to being caught. I decided to go through her boring, hurtful lecture rather than being found by the rest of the family. She stood up to continue.
"Your exam results came in last week, huh? Gosh, that was such an embarrassing moment! You only passed English. And that with 52%! I'm the school's topper, and I can't even believe such a loser is my brother."
I kept myself from rolling my eyes. Not her bragging about herself. But this was turning into bullying rather than a simple lecture. And what's more, I hate bullies more than anything!
"I, unlike you, am a proud Miller. And I want to stand on the top of success. I wouldn't allow you to put mud in our family name, so just get out and crawl to whatever hole you came from-"
Her voice was turning dramatically louder, and in the fear of the noise, I lunged at her and held her mouth again, and this time she struggled more than ever, thrashing violently. I just wanted to hit her head with something to make her unconscious, but I ended up doing something which made my heart sink.
I grabbed the nearest tool beside us and thrust it into her head to knock her out, only realizing after that what I used was a knife.
Her body slid from my hand to the ground and panic rushed to my heart. What have I done? I wasn't guilty of killing her, I was scared of imagining what my family would do if they found out. I thought of what people would do if something like this happens. And I immediately went to the back door and opened it quietly. And started cleaning the mess. Digging the soil in our backyard for 17 minutes and making a hole big enough to fit her, quietly lifting her, and burying her. Then I went in quietly and mopped the floor and kitchen counter of blood. It looked pretty normal, and I just sprayed some of the kitchen cleaners spray around to put off the smell of blood. That was the last day I saw my deceased sister.
Rushing upstairs as quietly as possible, I packed all the things needed to survive. I knew I couldn't live here from now on, and that they'll find me. My heart felt like it was bursting and my fingers kept shaking as they fumbled around to find my necessities. I slid open my glass window and jumped, trying to be as quiet as possible, which wasn't hard with my acrobatic body.
I ran as fast as I could, seeing some midnight people hanging around the streets. They might recognize me if I stop. So I kept running, knowing exactly where to go.
But then I saw a similar street and a flash of memory came rushing back to me.
Walk...pickpocketing...corpse...assassin...offer...threat...address...
Now I know where to go.