The Son Of A Murderer

-Chapter 1-

(Unedited for now)

"I hate this," is all I could think as my dad dragged the body bag filled with human parts out of the trunk of his car. He had a special place where he would fix up his creations. Art, he called it. I had grown used to it. I couldn't speak to anyone ever because of the fear my tiny young self would blab it to someone of importance. Not likely. The first time I had seen my dad kill someone was when I woke up next to another dead kid and my parents were arguing. Why would mom marry this monster? The baby's lips were blue and its skin a sickening color of white, the eyes were still slightly cracked open. I was only eight at the time of this and all I can vividly remember is the smell of rotting baby, blood, and then the gunshots that killed my mother. Why dad?

I'm 14 now and I still can't really speak good english. We moved after mother was killed, to oregon. Since we were moving a bunch school wasn't an option obviously so dad got me a dictionary and he makes me memorize it. Either I use too many big words or I mix up words and people don't understand.

As we travelled through the woods to get to the place all I could hear was the sound of my dad dragging the body bag across the fallen leaves. It was extremely loud but we were far enough into the woods, so there was no way any one would hear. Especially at 5 in the morning. I still wasn't entirely sure where we were but I suppose my dad meant for that to be so I couldn't tattle tale. When we approached the tiny shed my dad lit the lantern things and told me to "git outta 'ere Ryan" so I did. I ran off into the woods for as far as I could go for as fast as I could.

Eventually I slowed because I wasn't that in shape. I had found myself at the edge of a creek. Oregon really was pretty, and I just wish my thoughts didn't darken everything. I saw the dark reflection of me in the water. I was about average height and had sort of a spiky long pixie cut. My hair was a solid brown and swooped over my forehead. I looked alright for someone who didn't socialize or have common human skills. I was wearing a dirty blue-ish shirt with a gray jacket that wasn't zipped but pulled over my body so it covered all of me. For pants I was just wearing some black jeans. This was almost all the clothes I had other than a few v necks and a vest. I picked up a small rock by my foot and threw it at the reflection. I watched it sink and then looked at the rippling in the water. It was starting to get brighter now so I knew dad was probably heading back.

I decided to walk and think about what I would do today. Recently I have been going into town and hanging out in the music shop. When mom was still alive she taught me the basics of guitar with her guitar. A few nights before her death it was destroyed because of another fight. In the music shop they let me go in and just practice with whichever one I want. I think I've gotten much better recently. I have been working on a little tune and some lyrics but i'm not sure if they are even good. I obviously can't have anyone hear it other than the store keepers. Whatever, life is alright. I had arrived at the edge of the forest and it was entirely bright now. I walked onto the sidewalk while avoiding anyone else on it. As I was going not too many cars passed by that I can remember except for one. That one car had a little puppy sticking its head out of the window. Its ears were floppy and its fur was golden. I wish we could get a puppy. I was approaching the little area of stores and my eyes immediately locked onto the music store. I walked in and the bell on the door made a ding noise. The sudden change of temperature made me feel nice because I was quite cold before.

I settled onto one of the stools in the corner and grabbed a cool looking black acoustic guitar. I made sure it was in tune and then picked up where I left off with making my song. I went through it three times and then decided I should go back home to eat. I put back the guitar and dashed out the door.