WHO KILLED VICTORIA? | Complete

Chapter Twenty Three | Pathless

QOTC: Have you ever experienced a situation where past experiences influenced your present actions?

Victoria's POV

3 Months Until Victoria's Death...

I walked without a destination for quite some time. Letting the cold breeze enter my body and tense every cell within my being. I liked the cold. It reminded me of my childhood days and quite ironically the cold breeze always reminded me of my family.

I had a cruel family growing up, and I am not only talking about my father and mother. Everyone in my entire family was demeaning and utterly toxic. They hated kids, and me being the youngest in my family — minus Eric. I was treated very unkindly. Everyone around me hated everything I stood for, and that destroys a child completely.

I hated the world. I hated life. A part of me still does, that part that feels like nobody understands me. The part that is buried so deep within me that I even forgot it exists. That little child that is trapped in a cage that was created merely for their protection from the outside world, only for that cage to become a prison, and the child is the prisoner.

I always thought about things like this — the good and bad. I never truly understood why some people think that the world has to be divided into these two disturbing sectors. It never made sense. Why must we live in a world where everything is understood as good or bad? Why must I judge a person simply because they had a bad incident.

I always thought about first impressions. Why should I define a person as good or bad simply because they decided to show me that part of them on the first day we met? I do that too, I am not saying I am a saint because none of us are. Even saints are people who have mistakes. No one is truly a saint, nobody is perfect.

I hate first impressions with a passion because I know the character I took on when I met people for the first time. I understand why there are such personalities around the world. I know why my mother left and took off with Eric, just like I know why my father was very abusive to us.

I don't blame them for being who they are. I simply blame them for not giving me a chance to try and become who I am. I wasn't born a psychopath. I wasn't born with a fixed mission to kill everyone around me, but I must if I want to feel that sense of success everybody brags about to their family and friends.

How Damian thinks he is already a God simply for being born into a godlike family. How Isabella dreams of becoming a superstar and a famous influencer simply because she never had anyone who likes her when she was younger. How my mother thought leaving is the best choice after doing tons of drugs simply because she linked drugs to us.

I know why my mother left, and I hate her because deep down it's not because of my father — It's because of me. I drove my mother crazy at some points in her life, and unfortunately all of these points were the pieces of the puzzle my mother so desperately needed to abandon us. All of us, including me, strive to be someone simply because we never got the chance to be that person when we were younger. Our adulthood is simply a reflection of everything we wanted to be when we were kids, but couldn't.

I found myself in front of their large mansion. I saw the exotic cars parked outside. A green Bentley. Damian's annoying Lamborghini, and a Ferrari, which wasn't there when we were still together. If I knew he was going to get a Ferrari maybe I wouldn't have dumped him, kidding.