I was three an only child and a mistake. My parents wanted children but as soon as i was born my mother and father knew that it was wrong. You see their jobs were time consuming, not only that but it put me in danger. They were hired to kill people who commit crimes like murder or rape (basically crimes that could ruin lives) the worlds leaders would have a confidential vote if the criminal should live or die. If death is chosen my mum or dad would go to them and kill them in a manner also voted by leaders (the worse the crime, the more painful the death). I can remember looking up to my parents like they were heroes, fighting off the bad guys and bringing justice but little did I know my so called "heroes" were going to be the ones ruining my life.
My life was pretty normal up until I was three I had only been in this world for a few years and my dad was already teaching me how to handle a gun. Not exactly the average life but it was bearable (and admittedly a bit fun). My parents were so cautious when I was young, they taught me all different types of defensive skills such as karate and kick boxing. I didn't understand at the time that they were training me to become one of them, I thought they were protecting me. I can remember my mum explaining "Lisa, there are people out there that may want to hurt you so we're helping you defeat them, like in the films." I some how get agitated when I think of that. My life was not a movie because there was not guaranteed happy ending. On my fourth birthday it was finally time for me to venture into the unknown world and go to school. I had quite a few friends in primary school (probably because of the size of my house). Nothing really happened in primary apart from a black belt and my first gun (a Winchester).
It was time to leave the safety of primary school and go to high school. My mum warned me about keeping a low profile and telling nothing about the guns and fighting. It was easy the school was large and was a simple place to be invisible. I spent my break with a small handful of friends (Laura, Bethany, Em, Isabella, Falicia, Molly, Alice and Charlie) we weren't really that close just some people to stop me from being a total out-cast. I'm still friends with them now, at the age of seventeen. They were friendly but obviously I couldn't tell my secrets... I wanted to though.
At home things weren't going as smoothly as they were I school my parents never spoke to me apart from she they were asking me about assassination stuff. I knew this was not the stereotypical family portrait but I guess you can't really live a normal life when you're killing people for a living.
During a boxing lesson my dad came in with several wounds on his face. He asked to talk to my mum in private. I heard parts of the conversation "hiding" must be talking about work I thought to my self, at the time I didn't realise that this was much more serious than just a bad day at work. My mum came back into the lesson with mascara dripping of her face. I made brief eye contact with my dad, he was concerned and his wounds were deep. But after a mere couple of seconds my mum snapped my out of my thoughts with a swift kick in the jaw.
"Come on, if this were real you would be dead by now" she shouted. I doubt that she even cares if I die or not, she's just training me to carry on her work.
After the session I crept into my dads room silently (I guess sometimes training to be an assassin does help) I saw him in the mirror hand stitching of the gashes on his face he wasn't even flinching as the needle pierced his skin. He stood up and a tear rolled down his cheek. Now I think of it I've never seen him cry its like watching a ferocious predator turn into the size of a mouse. I stood up I knew he was going to beat me but I didn't like seeing him like this.
"Congrats you actually snuck past me." He said plainly.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Just work," He says with a faint smile "you're not allowed to be in here without permission" What might of been a small smile has suddenly turned into a snarl "now get here for your punishment" (some people may think that this is cruel but in our family its just like sport, and I was the losing team) he lies my face down on the floor and takes three strong kicks to my ribs. Not weak pathetic kicks either, short, sharp jabs to my upper torso. But I know if I show any sign of weakness the punishment will become more severe. I stand up after.
"My apologies sir it will never happen again." I swallow.
"Make sure it doesn't !" He snaps as I turn my back and walk away.
YOU ARE READING
The Prey
ActionI can remember when i was little that i was jealous of other kids because they had a normal life. I wanted it so badly that i forced my family away so i could be fostered into an average home. But now my past is hunting me down.
