Confessions of a Teenage Assassin

Chapter 3 - Beginning To My Sins

Hey forgive me for updatig after so long! I've been busy with exams and things :/ Anyways, here's another chapter. It's the springboard for the rest of the story so bear with me here :D

Comments or anything to say, let me know :) I read all comments! Vote for this story, yeah? x

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I was scared. I had literally nowhere else to go. I couldn’t rely on relatives, friends or teachers because they’re the first people he’s going to question to track me down – if he’s even tracking me down at all. The thought sent quivers down my spine every time I thought of that sick bastard.

  So I ran, to nowhere in particular. Chest heaving, and sweat steadily trickling down my forehead, I considered my options. The priority was to find somewhere to stay, obviously, and to find a job of some kind because my cash would run out quickly. I did know a couple of motels and apartments that are known for its cheap rent and pre-furnished interiors, though they were in the rough parts of the city and I was sick of constant insecurity. Plus, they didn’t open in the early hours of the morning anyways.

  Therefore I spent my night sleeping on a bench in the park, for the first time ever. Nightmares haunted every minute of my disturbingly troubled slumber.

  ‘Aren’t you a little too young, out here by yourself?’ The front desk assistant eyed me suspiciously, looking me up and down. I tried to control my voice, making sure it didn’t shake when I spoke, and after hastily wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I tried to reply as naturally as possible, ‘I need a place to stay, please.’

  She hesitated, before turning to tap away at her computer. I silently sighed in relief, but the fact that she kept looking up and observing me every once in awhile made me anxious. So I set my gaze on the painting on the wall behind her. It was one of those modern art paintings with just a single dot or a line, which I find rather tasteless and stupid.

  ‘There you go, room 213. If you need anything, call the reception.’ Her tone bored and flat. She handed a plastic key which I stuffed in my pocket. I gave her a quick smile and briskly walked down the hallway to the elevator. I pushed the button up, and took a look around me. The lobby was furnished simply with decent looking furniture, walls painted white, everything was just ordinary – easy to blend in – which was exactly what I needed.

  When I threw the door open, I wanted to cry out in joy. It wasn’t one of those shabby and stale-smelling rooms that had no electricity and the only furniture were a single bed and a chair, and had cockroaches crawling out of the sinks. This room had a made double bed, with clean white sheets, and two armchairs that sat by the large window, and a small TV sat in the corner, accompanied by a decent bathroom just opposite. I collapsed on the bed, simply staring up at the ceiling – which the paint wasn’t cracking nor was it peeling – and it was when my stomach growled that I realized I was starving. I decided, once I had food in me, I’d have the energy to plan my next move.

  So I let myself out, carefully shutting the door behind me, I was about to head over the elevators when I spotted the room service lady just a few doors down. I was about to ask her directions to go into town, to where the restaurants were, but she didn’t notice me and went inside one of the rooms. However, she had left the trolley outside. As I got closer, I saw that a couple of coats and jackets hung from the hangers and my hand reached forward, without me actually acknowledging it, and snagged one of them. I dashed back into my room, where I dropped the coat on the floor, and stood there shaking.

  Did I… Did I just…? Did I steal? Then I scolded myself for being stupid, I’m only borrowing it for a short while, and once I had the money to buy myself some clothes then I’d return it. Of course I’d return it.

  Or at least that was what I told myself at the time. Over the course of next couple of days, I found myself involuntarily beginning to steal. The more irrational part of my mind told me it was utterly and entirely wrong, but my hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Strangely, I didn’t feel any particular guilt or anything. I even stole a woman’s purse while I was out on a walk. I didn’t intend for it to happen, but seeing her attention was elsewhere and I snatched it off the back of her chair as I walked past. My heart frantically beating as I got back to my room later and sorted through her purse; there were about $900 in cash and a few credit cards. I took out the money and hid it in my backpack under the bed.

  You couldn’t be too safe nowadays. I didn’t trust anyone. Not when I’m out here all by myself, relying on my ability and common sense to keep me alive and going. It was all about lying low, I went out with a hoodie at all times – a hoodie which I shoplifted from Wal-Mart – and I also decided to dye my hair a different colour. I had looked at my dark brown hair in the mirror and decided I was going to bleach it blonde. I went this far to lay low, and I guess it worked. Because no one came to bother me and I was beginning to settle into a routine.

  Until one day, I got terribly sick of having to steal things – I was brave, no doubt, but I also preferred practicality – so I made up my mind that I had to get a job.

  I wasn’t a terrible student, I pulled B’s and A’s in all my classes but I was only 15. I wouldn’t be able to pull off office work or anything academical like that. What about waiting tables? I had wrinkled my nose up at that thought. I didn’t want to stand around all day, take orders, and bring customers their food. That kind of work was too dull for me, I preferred something interesting and adventurous.

  I searched through the adverts in newspapers and looked out for ‘HELP NEEDED’ signs whenever I was in town. My cash was dwindling and I needed some kind of income fast.

  Everything was going so well. I even targeted a small cinema that required someone to sell the tickets. I figured that wasn’t too bad. I could even catch a free movie or two.

  It was all working out. Until I accidentally killed that man, of course.