Agent Martinez

Chapter 1 (Rewritten)

Another re-written chapter. Have fun reading.

"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."

~Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss

"We don't want you! Why don't you understand?" Her mother yelled, running her hands through her hair in frustration, a crazed look in her eyes.

She hiccupped, her stormy eyes wide. "You're my mommy. I love you," she said softly.

Her mother screamed into her hands before dropping them and curling them into fists. She stumbled back as her mother advanced threateningly, hand poised to strike. She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the blow. It never came.

"Miranda, you should never raise your hand on a child, especially your own child," her father's comforting voice came.

Her eyes popped open, vision blurry from her tears. "Papa?" She whispered. Her father was home early; he usually wasn't home until 10, giving her mother plenty opportunities to hit her, to make her feel worthless.

"Yes, honey, papa's home." He let go of her mother's wrist and walked over to her, squatting before her. His kind blues radiated love, love she never got from her mother. He brushed her shoulder-length hair out of her eyes and then continued to wipe her tears away. The feel of his calloused thumb against her cheek made her sigh in satisfaction. Her father brought her head into his chest and hugged her, whispering comforting words into her ear until her hiccups stopped.

Her father pulled away and gave her a soft kiss on her pale forehead. "I missed you papa," she whispered.

"I missed you too, honey." He stared at her lovingly. "Now Alexa honey, go to your room. I brought you something."

Her eyes automatically brightened in excitement. Nodding obediently, she gave her father a hug before running away up the wooden stairs, her feet thumping against the hardwood floor. She was nearly on the landing by her room when she heard her father's slightly raised voice. "Why do you hate her so much?"

"Because she has brought nothing but bad luck since the day she was born," her mother yelled back.

"Talk quieter," her father ordered.

"Vince," her mother's voice became muffled. Alexandra tip-toed back down, the previous excitement no longer in her footsteps. She leaned against the railing, still hidden from her parents view. "2 days after she was born, you lost your position as the vice president in the bank. A week later, my sister died. The whole neighborhood began hating us 2 months later. Then, on her second birthday, we received the letter. Why wouldn't I hate her?" Miranda exclaimed incredulously.

"She's a child! She's just like Hayley," her father defended.

She heard her mother snarl animalistically. "Don't you dare compare that witch with my angel."

Alexandra sniffled, the thought of her mother hating her being too much for her 5 year old heart. She hadn't gotten her father fired. She would never do that to him. She loved him too much. She would never have her aunt killed, neither would she ever want anybody to hate her parents. Then why did her mother think she could ever do something like that?

She heard angry stomping and knew her mother was coming. She swiftly flew up the stairs, careful to not make a sound. She ran into her room and sat on her bed, acting as if she'd been there all along. The stomping passed her room and a door soon slammed shut. She flinched, hating the loud sound.