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514 Words
Life was already tough for normal human beings. But when it comes to people like us, tough is a weak word to describe. I tried to cage my sins in my heart, but that never worked. Eventually, I gave up and turned my back on them, heartless. It worked fairly well back then. I've been turning away from my mess for a long time, but now as I think over it, I don't think it was the best idea. I should've known.
I've fantasized about this from a young age; I knew how to do this since I was a little kid. My family despised me, that I knew. They were all good and talented. My mother was a successful lawyer and my father was a head policeman. My older twin sisters, Johana and Joey, both dream to become doctors. My younger brother Aiden was the top student in his grade and also had ambitions to become a lawyer. Even the others in the family, like my grandparents and relatives, were stunning in their art, one of my cousins ended up as a singer. I'm the only one with nothing up my sleeve, except I can aim well. Maybe I could be a shooter?
Joey always kept on saying back then,
"You are nothing like the rest of our family, that I know. But I tell you if you want to be a Miller, find something you can aspire at. I know there's something inside. You just don't show the effort to do anything. Try harder or just change your name."
That doesn't help much, seeing the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I never find anything for me. I made a banner for myself, saying that I got to try harder, and thousands of quotes from great personalities. But nothing changed me until I reached the point where I was swallowed by the dark side of negativity. I would find myself walking up the stairs to my room, and standing from the shadow upstairs, and looking at the light-filled living room, where my family chatted away. I wanted to ruin their happiness for some reason. Seeing them so happily cherishing their life as if they got the best one in the world felt rather irksome. I don't understand the reason I think all of these thoughts which are surely not healthy for a boy my age. I don't understand anything at all.
Who am I?
I knew it wasn't normal for a boy like me to feel like this. Was I born evil? I felt like Satan's offspring. Eventually, seeing all my poor grades and habits, my family decided for me. I was discriminated against, sent to my room forever, not letting me see the sun's daylight. I was home-schooled, and my food was always brought up to my room. I felt pushed like I could never reach the goals and expectations my family did. And this new rule of locking me up in my room broke my last string of patience before I decided to devote my life to assassination.
- Writer
