Deadly Love

Chapter 1

Bethany Jones was a pretty 18 year old girl. She had light brown hair to her shoulders and light blue eyes. Her body was pretty athletic and her height was a bit above average. She went to a normal public school in San Francisco at day, and in the evenings, she listened to music or drew in her sketchbook. She sounds like a normal girl, right? Well, that isn't really the case.
You see, she had a pretty unusual hobby. Most girls in her age would like shopping, cheerleading, dancing, or some other normal hobby. But not Bethany. Her nights were spent outside on the streets of the worst neighborhoods in San Francisco. And what was she up to there, you may wonder? Well, she killed people.

Bethany Jones had grown up in an unstable home. Her mom was a drunk, her dad was abusive, and her only brother had died because of cancer. Now, Bethany had grown up to be different from other 18 year old girls. Her messed-up childhood had made her to the person she was today.
So, back to her unusual hobby. Tho she found it pretty exciting to kill people, that was not quite the reason she did it. No, the real reason was revenge. She wanted to kill people that was as bad as her parents, who she well, also killed. But no one knew that of course, she was also a master at cover ups.

Bethany walked slowly up the small street that led to her home. She looked up at the sky, you could already see some stars. A few leaves in different colors drifted by in a breath of wind on the sidewalk. Bethany shivered in her leather jacket, perhaps it was time for a warmer one soon?
She walked up to a small door on a building, seemingly abandoned from the outside. Bethany slipped through the door as quickly as she could; no one could see her. It would be quite unfortunate if her classmates were to find out she lived in a place like this.
Bethany closed and locked the door quietly behind her and were met by a total darkness. She fumbled on the wall until she found the light-switch. The small room in front of her lit up and revealed her home. There was a small bed in a corner with red bedsheets. On the left side of the bed, there was a wooden box placed upside down to work as a bedside table. On the box, there were a few books, her sketchbook and a few pencils. In the other side of the room, there was a wooden table with two wooden chairs. Beside the table were a small fridge and a gym bag with all her clothes.
She took of her black boots and hung her black leather jacket on a nail on the wall that worked as a hanger. She walked over to the bed and collapsed on it with her hands on either side of her head. Her head felt like it was spinning, school today had been exhausting. Bethany knew she had some homework to do, but that didn't stop her from wanting to do her favorite hobby. She looked at the small clock on her bedside table; it showed 6:28 p.m. It was awhile left until it was dark enough for her to go out, which made her decide to eat something instead. Bethany walked over to the small fridge and opened it. It was certainly not a lot of food in there. A bag of three apples, a piece of bread and a package of carrots. There were also two bottles of water and a can of soda. Bethany sighed and grabbed the bread, dinner would be a sandwich today too. Well, if you could even call it a sandwich. It was more like a dry piece of bread without anything on, not even butter.

About 6 hours later, Bethany had slept and ate. She felt perfectly ready to go out and
find her new victim. Today's lucky person was a man in his 60's. Apparently, he had hurt both of his ex-wives in every way possible. Bethany had done her research on him, his name was George Tyrell. Of course she saw it as her duty to get rid of such a monster from the world.
Bethany put on her black ripped jeans, her black boots, a dark red hoodie and her leather jacket on top. She put her hair up in a high ponytail and grabbed her two favorite things in the world; her knives. She adored those knives with all of her heart. Partly because her mom had given her them before she became a drunk. They were supposed to be a decoration in her room, but Bethany had started practicing using them. Now she was pretty good with them, and kept them as sharp as possible. The other reason she loved the knives, was of course because they could help her kill people. Duh. Then she also grabbed a pair of black gloves, a precaution to not leave any fingerprints. She slid the knives in the sleeves on her jacket and wandered out into the night.