THE BLACK ONYX (BOOK 1) WATTYS 2022 ~The Black series~

🥀Chapter 19🥀

"Why should I apologize for the monster I've become?, when no one ever apologized for making me this way."

~The Joker ~
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This chapter is dedicated to Noe_lle15
for calling my story a master piece for commenting so many times I just had to get my butt up and work on another chapter. You're amazing and that is beyond a doubt.🥺

The first time I killed something was a mess.

My father had taken us for a yacht party and I was forced to go because the whole essence of the event was for my father to mingle with the big and powerful politicians and show them what a loving happy cross cultural family he had racked up.

Everyone was to be on their best behaviour especially me and from the severe glances my father threw my way and the warning glint in his eyes if I fucked him up I was as good as dead.

So everyone donned on their best dresses and my mother was all smiles hiding behind a cake of makeup and pretending to be the happy wife everyone thought she was.

My sister was the same with her demure dress and angelic aura she fit the description of the model child my father always wanted but never appreciated.

And then there was me.

There's just something about being different for people like me, you can hide behind clothes and smiles and the polite conversation but there would always be a giveaway.

I saw that as I watched my father laugh and interact, pulling my demure mother close as he lovingly placed his hand on her waist putting on an Oscar worthy show for the lot.

It was in the glint in his eyes, the semi tick of his fingers and menacing look he would throw every once in a while when he thought no one was looking.

Monsters are always human, always hidden in flesh but filled with deep dark bottomless evil on the inside.

I hated that I could see it though, I hated that I couldn't be normal sometimes although I'll never admit it.

That and most times I also hated that I couldn't just be me, I had to hide myself all my life so the people around me would feel comfortable.

It's what made my dad who he is today, hiding behind a facade and pleasing everyone around him so he could feel a level of power in his supposed normality at least until he got back home and turned everyone into his punching bag.

He hated what he was and that made him a coward, and in some ways I was a coward too bowing to his every will because I somehow loved my sister more than life itself.

It was the only thing stopping me from ripping him apart like I always wanted to anyway.

Among the guests was a plump middle aged widow with a rather sharp tongue and haughty attitude coupled with an Irish brogue that was a lot thicker than any I had heard before, she was a congress woman involved in some shady business and if you asked me was the sole reason her husband was found dead by a heart attack judging from her constant visits to my home behind closed doors with my father in his study.