𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒

𝐎 𝐍 𝐄

I S A B E L L A

ᥫ᭡

𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐃 anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn't argue with them. 

They always assume I'm a man.

 A man killing people and leaving the FBI on another traceless mission. I mean who are they to assume my fucking gender? It doesn't really bother me though. One thing between us is that the world portrays me as a devil who kills 'innocent' individuals for no reason, but I'm actually like a super hero doing the FBI's dirty work.

Over the years, I have come to realize that the greatest trap in my life is not success, popularity, or power, but self-rejection. As soon as someone accuses me or criticizes me, as soon as I am rejected, left alone, or abandoned, I find myself thinking, that it proves once again that I am a nobody. I am no good. I deserve to be pushed aside, forgotten, rejected, and abandoned. My fathers words replay in my head non-stop.

"You're the reason your mother is dead."

Self-rejection is a silly thing actually. It's like playing a game against yourself. It's not just about what others might think or say; it's about how you see and feel about yourself. You become both the critic and the one being criticized, creating a cycle that's hard to break.

I had to gain my confidence over the past years. I learned to not give a fuck about what others thought, especially my father. I trained myself to never show emotions, because emotion is weakness, and I don't have time for weaknesses.

I've killed more people than I can remember. I can barely remember them because I'm always plastering my fathers face on them before killing them. It basically therapy for me. I know I sound evil as fuck but trust me, it's for a reason. He's done so much shitty things to me. He hurt me, physically and mentally. He created scars that have stuck with me my whole life, scars that I couldn't get rid of even if I wanted to.

Of course, he doesn't do the cruel things he did to me when I was younger anymore. In fact, he acts like it never happened which is funny to me.

And I hate him for turning me into the person I am today. I didn't choose this life, he chose it for me.

But fuck it, it's my life and i've finally accepted it.

Mamà's death showed me how fucked up the world was. I learned that mercy is a wasted emotion and it only gets in the way of reaching for success. Everyone is human, family, friends, everyone. No matter who you are, who they are, betrayal will follow you. I had to learn that the hard way.

✹✹✹

"You fucking bitch." I mumbled gathering myself back up. I stand up, throwing my dagger at the guys knee. He fucking bit me and ran. Now I may or may not have rabies.

I roll my eyes, listening to his screams.

"Leave me the fuck alone, woman!" He yells.

Ugh, men.

Wanna be seen as the strongest species alive but can't take a scratch to the knee. I pull him by his hoodie, throwing him to the floor. I get on top of him, analyzing his face. He smelt like cigarettes and whiskey. Definitely a drunkard.

I smirk at him, digging into his wound. He groans in pain, throwing is head back.

"Stop! please stop." He pleads.