Hidden Memories

V. The Thief

Media: "Daddy Issues" by The Neighborhood

~~~'~~~

Freia's POV

The man had been leaning on the wall at the back of the bar for a good thirty minutes, staring at his wallet as he kept wiping his eyes and nose.

I had been given my first kill order by my own father, and I can't really decline it for he was the one who kept me off an orphanage and the streets.

The objective was to kill the target in one move. If there was a pulse found after my first move, I would be punished by attending his school. I didn't think too much about the punishment and about transferring to a school. I knew that I would be forced to attend to it anyways.

Hiding behind the wall at the side of the building, I thought on how I should approach the man.

I felt my knife under my skirt getting colder as the wind blew harsher. The location has its back against the dark forest. The night was cloudy and it's windy.

I'm not really sure which state I am for I was escorted from plane to plane. They didn't let me see what I was boarding because my escorts were always muttering that they were in a hurry.

When I finally decided, I slid my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket and felt my phone. I pulled it out and turned it on.

One of the lessons Darlene gave me in acting is that if you want to make it convincing, mean it, make it genuine. Make it sound like you're actually hurt, or happy. Hurt yourself if you have to.

And so, I recalled my first memory. My first memory that made me think how I don't remember anything before I woke up. How I couldn't accept that the couple who came for me were about to sign papers to be my foster parents. How I didn't feel any love from them. They fed me and got me a place to live in, but those deeds didn't heal my heart that was rotting from the start. The very start where I didn't remember what even happened to me.

My eyes started to tear up. The want of seeing my true parents have grown over the years and I've been wasting my time over this couple, Darlene and Fabio. They say that my parents died in a car crash with me in it, but I didn't believe them. How could I? I had no injuries or any scars of the so-called accident.

I forced myself to cry more until a sob escaped my lips. I heard his shoes move against the cement in alarm. The man must have heard me. Well, there's no turning back.

I revealed myself with the back of my left hand wiping my eyes. Holding my phone with my right hand, I staggered towards the bench the man was standing next to.

The sobs kept coming out and tears fell while I had the back of my hand, both wiping my face. The man perked up from the sounds I made and walked over to me. He sat next to me on the bench and tapped my arm. I looked up from my position and quickly scanned him.

The man looked old with wrinkles around his wet eyes. His grey hair were disheveled for running his hands through it a couple of times. He looks exactly the same in the file that I was given, but more tired and sad.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, startling me because I didn't think a man would bother asking an emotional teenager on what's wrong. I breathed in the cold air shakily and acted as if I was readying myself to speak.

"My boyfriend broke up with me on the phone," I squeaked out, acting as if I was fragile as I waved the phone to prove as if I just got off with the non-existent boy. "I can't believe he would be the one who would do it first, though. We were falling apart anyways, and he even boasted about him cheating on another girl who he thinks that she is in another level."