THE PERFECTION: POOL OF BLOOD

CHAPTER 2

As I walked up the gravel driveway towards Aunt Mary-Lou's house, I couldn't help but take in the surroundings. The sunflower fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the petals were in full bloom, glistening in the sunlight. The house itself was a modest bungalow, nestled amongst the fields, with a white picket fence surrounding it. It wasn't anything too fancy, but it was cozy and inviting.

Aunt Mary-Lou's house was located near the coasts of the city. From the porch, you could see the vast expanse of the ocean, and huge cruise ships passing by in the distance. I had lived in this house all my life, and it had become my sanctuary. The sea breeze, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the warm sunshine made it the perfect place to call home.

Aunt Mary-Lou had never had a child of her own, so I had it real good. I was spoiled rotten, and I always got away with what I wanted. The few times I was punished, my aunt would feel sorry for me and take me out for ice cream. She was a kind-hearted woman, and I knew I was lucky to have her in my life.

Despite my young age, I was very knowledgeable about the dangers of the city. Living in a wealthy neighborhood had its perks, but it also came with its fair share of risks. Mr. Devoroux, our neighbor, was constantly being robbed, and I had learned to be vigilant and aware of my surroundings.

Aunt Mary-Lou was very loving and gave me everything I wanted, but there was one thing she couldn't give me: the truth about my mother. Whenever I asked, she would tell me that my mother had died of a tragic cause shortly after I was born, but she never told me what had happened. It was a mystery that had plagued me my entire life, and I was determined to uncover the truth.

I could remember fragments of my birth, like how I was an extraordinary child with a photographic memory, but it was more peculiar and special than the ordinary. I couldn't explain it, but it felt like there was more to my story than what I knew.

I remember the days when I used to live with my Aunt Mary Lou in our small town. I was a smart kid, getting straight A's in school, and that always made her proud. She would often tell me how I reminded her of my mother, who was equally smart and hardworking. Aunt Mary Lou loved my mother as her own, and that love extended to me.

She had a heart that was both beautiful and touching. Whenever I needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, she was always there for me. I remember one time when I came back from school, feeling sad and defeated. Aunt Mary Lou listened patiently to my woes and then gave me a warm hug. Her love and care for me knew no bounds.

Despite my good grades, I was a very mischievous kid. Aunt Mary Lou was too soft to punish me, and I always took advantage of that. I remember sneaking into Mr. Devouroux's yard and plucking his ripe mangoes. He would come complaining to Aunt Mary Lou, who would be stern in front of him about how she would deal with me. But once he left, we would giggle about it.

Her softness towards me sometimes got me into trouble. Once, I remember getting into a fight with a boy from school. He had been bullying me for weeks, and I finally snapped. I punched him in the face, and he fell to the ground. Aunt Mary Lou scolded me for my behavior, but deep down, I knew she was proud of me for standing up for myself.

I had two friends, Daliah Morray and Reginald Morton. Daliah was a red-headed girl, an animal lover who had a beautiful voice. She would sing softly, and the animals would rest wherever they were. Reginald was different. He was cold and brutal, and I always sensed that he was lesser in touch with his feelings.

One time, Reginald and I tricked a dog into following us into the woods. We kicked him to death, and Daliah was traumatized by what we had done. She stopped hanging around us as much after that, and I felt guilty for what we had done. I knew that Aunt Mary Lou would never approve of such cruel behavior, but I couldn't resist the thrill of doing something forbidden.

Looking back, I realize that Aunt Mary Lou was more than just a guardian to me. She was my confidant, my friend, and my mentor. She taught me about kindness, forgiveness, and the importance of treating others with respect. Even when I acted out or misbehaved, she always showed me love and compassion. I will always be grateful for the time I spent with her and the lessons she taught me

I remember when I was eight years old, I had a fascination with science. Unlike most kids my age, I could calculate numbers within seconds in my head, and I was very knowledgeable about chemicals and the human body. I had always aspired to be a well-known scientist, discovering new things and making groundbreaking discoveries.

I would spend hours on the internet, reading and learning more, way more than your average eight-year-old. Aunt Mary-Lou would always yell for me to come and eat, but I would just wave her off and continue reading. The more I learned, the more I felt like I was getting closer to my dream.

But despite my passion for science, my life was far from perfect. My father never came around, and the only time he did, the following day, our house, Mr. Devouroux's and Mrs. Queen's houses were robbed. I remember hearing the loud thumps of the intruders' boots as they ran out of the house, carrying whatever valuables they could grab. Aunt Mary-Lou and I were lucky to have made it out unscathed, but the experience left a deep impact on us.

Aunt Mary-Lou rarely spoke of that one time, mostly because of the fear my father made her feel and the abusiveness he portrayed in her house. I could see the sadness and worry in her eyes whenever she would mention him. I was young, but I knew he was responsible for the robbery. Never again did we see him, and to be honest, I was okay with that. Aunt Mary-Lou and my friends were all the family I needed.