The Lost Mafioso (Bungou Stray Dogs Fanfic)

Part 2

BESS KEENE'S? P.O.V.
Bess' Bedroom 8:20

I hummed to jazz as I scrolled through my phone and flipped through newspapers searching for a job. You obviously wouldn't have a clue as to who I am (or at least I hope), don't worry you aren't alone I barely have an idea as to who (or what) I am either. One potentiality was an incompetent, disappointing, fake monster. As my literature teacher always said, 'Provide evidence for your answer.' Here's my evidence:

Incompetent- With everything I did my mother reprimanded me. Such as cleaning the bathroom. I always try my hardest even going to the full extreme of using a toothbrush to clean corners thoroughly. I would sweep and mop but guess what. It was never enough. Even when I was engaged in doing something to help my future she found fault. So I no longer desired to be a writer, chef or inventor. Not to mention whenever I was doing something she always bothered me to do something else for her. If I didn't respond I had a 'disgusting' attitude. But should I ever try telling her anything while she was occupied I got in trouble.

Disappointment- I lost privileges due to a low performance in an exam of any type. Once in third grade I scored 38/50 in a Comprehension test (which wasn't even important) and I lost the privilege of playing video games during the school term. I once enjoyed video games; due to a lack of them, my interest in playing them dwindled. I was never able to come up to my mother's standard in anything and why it hurt so much was because she works so hard as a detective to provide for our needs.

Fake- This is what I HATED most about myself. The fact I had to lie not to hurt the feelings of others and myself. My tastes were rather parallel to my friends and well sometimes they would out loud say they didn't care about my input. Usually I would pass it off with a smile and not say anything more until the break was over. At our little gatherings at the malls or the cinema usually I'd third wheel it I remembered crying during the movies in fifth and sixth grade about this. But I got over it by 7th grade when I decided to give up on going out with groups of people anymore.

Monster- Why? I-I murdered two people using an ability I had no control over. It felt amazing while I was stifiling and burning them to death. I never told my mother about it and camera footage wouldn't be released to the public till tomorrow as I killed them yesterday. I was scared of what could occur if they found out it was me. Although I lost most of my regard for life I still wanted my freedom.

This is why I was looking for a job, for freedom from my mother. She dulled my excitement for life I barely understood what was my reason for living anymore. All those dreams of being a writer, inventor or chef were gone now thanks to her. I was honestly hoping that I would be able to earn a living for myself and enjoy life a little more. But finding a job that I would really like was proving to be quite difficult for my age. I could only work as an assistant in variety stores and at fast food places. There was an opening for a sous chef at a soup kitchen. I took this into consideration as I enjoyed cooking, so I saved the article.

BESS' ROOM 8:50 p.m.

There were some taps on my window that disturbed me from my work. Sighing I looked at the window to see two boys, around my age if not my age, perched in a tree. My eyes widened as I looked at them thinking of what to do. No matter how much I tried to rationalise the potential danger I could be putting myself in, my thirst for adventure & freedom influenced my choices. My ultimate choice was to let them in. Thankfully my parents wouldn't be home for a good while. So cautiously I approached the window. The boy with brown hair and bandages smiled. His companion who donned a hat over ginger locks looked at me also. He said something to the bandaged boy which made them both smile.

My fingers trembled in anticipation as I slid open the window slightly. "Who are you?" I interrogated before they could move.

"Representatives of an organisation your mother was affiliated with," the bandaged boy responded.