Love Actually

Chapter 1

Sometimes life goes down hill but then it rolls straight back up and continues the way it was, or perhaps better. As for mine, mine went down hill but didn't bother to resume back to the way it was. I didn't have a good childhood. My mother died when I was eight and nothing was the same after that. She was the light of my life, the reason I smiled when I woke up, from hearing her voice. She was astonishingly pretty. At least, I thought so. She was sweet and always put me before anyone else. That's why I loved her. My mum. Always making sure I got the best in life. My dad though, he wasn't like my mum. If you opened up a dictionary and searched for the word evil, his name would probably be in the definition. He was heartless and cold, nothing like how dads are supposed to be. A lot of people don't have dads because they walked out on them, I wish mine would've. My mum would still be here today if it weren't for that asshole. He killed her. On purpose. He was a raging alcoholic and was prone to use drugs as a way of numbing his emotions. He killed her, just because. Because she was supposedly stressing him out. I hate him. I hate him with a passion. I remember my mum telling me to treat people how you want to be treated. I did before and after she but then I didn't care to listen once she was gone. I want to die. And that's how I feel right? So if I'm meant to treat people how I want to be treated, then why not kill them. I started with small crimes like stealing, I helped a few people, dealing their drugs. You know, doing their dirty work.
Then I moved on to bigger things. At the age of thirteen I killed my dads brother. He was like him, he treated my mum like shit as well, always round drinking with my dad. He hit me sometimes, I didn't hit back. I stabbed him.

My dad thought I was deranged. He's one to talk, he tried sending me to jail when I killed his brother. The court said it was a misunderstanding so they made me stay in this place where it was supposed to make me normal again. I think it's called a psych ward. It didn't help I've been in and out ever since. I've severely injured several people. After killing my uncle, I was immune to pain. So I decided to help people get rid of others. Like a hitman, except I didn't get paid. It was mostly gangs and it's just what they do, and because I was young they thought it'd be best if I did it, because people thought I was just an innocent young boy. They were so wrong. But it was too late to realize, wasn't it?

I got sent to prison two years ago. When I was sixteen. For manslaughter. Except, it wasn't manslaughter I did it on purpose. But they didn't need to know that. I'm currently in a psych ward again. Nothing or nobody helps.

"Ansel you haven't touched your food" the nurse said whilst coming to collect my plates. I don't remember the last time I had eaten a full a meal. I was scrawny now. Not as thin compared to the people starving in poor countries, that'd be selfish of me to say. Just thin, you could see my ribs lightly, and I was extremely pale from not getting any sunlight because I just sat in this weird, grey room all day. The only greeting I usually get is the draft coming in from under the door.
"I'm not hungry, I already told you that a week ago, you can't force me to eat if I'm not comfortable with it" I replied, arms folded. It was always cold here, you wore grey pants and a grey shirt, kind of like what actual hospitals wear. Me being skinny doesn't help either.
"Well we can't let you go until you start eating" the nurse said whilst slamming the door.
I sighed and made my way to the window. Sometimes when I look out of my window I see people playing on the field behind the building. It's usually teams of people doing stuff, like football training and things like that. What normal people my age, eighteen, would be doing. I wish I could go out there and play with them. But I know that as soon as I lose, my out of control self would be back in here.
I've got to start eating so I can finally leave. I wonder who my next victim will be. Somebody that I don't know? The nurse said I should really stop committing crimes because I'm an adult now and it's childish of me, maybe I should kill her. No, she's treated me too well. It kind of feels like my mother being back, but only a bit since nothing could compare to her.