Set ones Heart on Revenge <DNF>

Prologue

Start the video at 2:03 to see the trick George is trying to learn later in the chapter ^

George POV
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"Son, don't put your finger on the trigger unless you are ready to shoot," My father reminded me. My hands were trembling and sweat dripped down my forehead.

"Dad, it feels wrong to shoot someone, even if it is just a person printed on a piece of paper," I whined as I set the gun down on the shelf near my waist.

My dad sighed, "Look George, I know you are only twelve, but stop acting like such a child." I looked down at the ground, avoiding contact with my fathers disappointed eyes.

"You've got a good stance and you took all the safety precautions, it's all a mental thing now." My father explained.

"Try picturing them as someone with a knife who's about to get you." He suggested. I picked up the gun and took a deep breath.

I slowly lifted my noodle arms up in front of me. I stepped with my right foot forward slightly and wrapped my hands tightly around the gun like my father taught me.

I pulled the trigger...

There was a loud BANG, and then there was a ringing silence. There was a little bit of smoke coming from the right side of the gun.

I examined the paper target and noticed I had shot the person right where there heart would have been. If it had been a real person, they would have most likely died in three to five minutes.

"Nice shot, son. But, had you shot them in the brain stem, they would have killed them instantly." I set the gun down.

'Will I ever impress you?' I asked myself in my head as I sighed out loud.

"Don't get too down about it, George. You don't have much experience with anatomy and how the human body works. You will get better with shooting with practice." My dad patted my back.

"Why don't we go back to working with knives for a bit. You are getting pretty efficient with those." He suggested and I happily nodded. I am not a fan of shooting guns, I definitely prefer a bow.

We walked over to another part of the basement of our families mansion. There was a wall covered in knives, some curvy and some straight. Some of the knives had around two inch blades while others were longer.

I was rather experienced with knives. The first time I had used a knife was when I was ten. My father always said "ya gotta train 'em young".

"What knife would you like to use today?" I reached out and grabbed one. It had a black handle and the blade was around 1.5 inches long with a curve at the end.

(It looks a bit like this ^)

"That was the first knife I held, T'was my fathers" I picked up the knife and it held it with the blade facing behind me.

I walked over to the dummy that we owned. It was one of those stupid fleshy ones you'd see at a karate school.

I decided to show my dad the new move I learned the other day. Basically, you hold the knife so the blade is behind you and you bring it out and around your body with your arm backwards. It allows you to slash someone with a side swing, if you do it quickly enough, it could be fatal.

"You need to work on your speed with that trick if you want it to work properly. With the speed you're doing it, they'd snap your arm before the blade made contact with their skin." My dad scolded and I groaned.

"Don't give me that attitude. You will thank me later in life for giving you this advise. When you officially become a me member of the mafia when you turn 21," My father grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, father, I understand," I muttered. He seemed amused and patted my head before telling me to practice my parkour, and with that, he walked out the door.

I trotted over to the door, down the hallway, and into another room of the basement, the gym. There were gymnastics bars, balance beams, a matted floor, some dumbbells, bench press, spin bikes, treadmills, and many other pieces of equipment.

I decided to start by warming up and then I would attempt the thing that I had been failing at for two weeks now...running up a wall.

(A/N: the move of the video shown at the top- time stamp is 2:03)

I walked over to the matted floor and did some push-ups, sit-ups, curl-ups, and attempted spilts. I didn't get all the way down, but it was further than last time.

Following that, I did some jumping jacks, and then laid down on the floor for fifteen minutes in pure exhaustion.

After finally catching my breath, I stood up and walked over to the fifteen foot wall. It made my five foot self, look short. I gulped.

I walked about fifteen feet away from the wall before I began sprinting towards the wall. I felt my legs moving, at some points it was too quick and I nearly fell. I held my breath as I ran up part of the wall before pushing off the wall to attempt to reach the top. Key word, attempt.

I felt myself fall and land on my butt. I pouted before standing up and doing it again, and again, and again. I spent around thirty minutes trying to reach the top, but I never did.

I was about to try for about the millionth time when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked over my shoulder to see my dad standing there, a look of dismay plastered on his face.

"Are aren't running nearly as quickly as needed, boy. Why are you so un-athletic?"

"I'm not athletic because you never let me do sports as a kid because 'it's too dangerous'." I spoke sassily, secretly praying I wouldn't get a beating for it.

My dad grabbed me aggressively by the shirt and pulled me in front of him. "You such an ungrateful brat," he spat with no remorse in his tone whatsoever. I felt my eyes weld up with tears, but I held them back.

"Do it again until you get it. You need to run faster, not trip over your own feet, and stop being a wimp. Act like a man!"

I did it again, and again, and again, until finally, I got. I stood up on top of the wall, my chest stood out with pride. My father almost looked proud of me for a moment...

"Well done, George. Now we will work on being able to do that all the time. Do your cool down and then come up for dinner." He smiled weakly before walking away.

"I can't believe how disappointing this child is..." My father muttered under his breath, but I still heard it.

"Will you ever see how much I try to impress you?" I asked him in my head as a wet tear streamed down my face.

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1,243 Words

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