Confessions of a Teenage Assassin

Chapter 4 - Blood On My Hands

I am really really sorry about leaving the story for so long but I was abroad and I didn't have access to the website but I promise it will be constant updates from now on :) 

If you're unfamiliar with the plot, you can go back and read the previous chapter. But it will be more exciting from then on because Aria is losing herself to her hatred and contempt.

Again thank you for reading and don't forget to vote and comment. I'd love to hear what you think!

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  I stared blankly at the TV screen in front of me.

  I was bored. In fact, bored out of my mind. I hadn't much luck with job seeking and I didn't know the right protocol for anything. If I was a lost boat at sea when I decided to run away, now I felt like I'd never see the shore again.

  'Fuck it.' I said out loud and stood up. I headed over to the closet and pulled off a white tank top and some black jeans off the hangers and got dressed. I carefully lined my eyes and brushed on a coat of thick black mascara. I smeared some gloss on my lips and smacked them.

  If I honestly had nothing to do, why sit at home? Why not go out and find some fun? I knew perfectly that it was going against the code of laying low. But being at home is depressing and I sometimes could feel the walls closing in on me. It was a claustrophobic feel. And I didn't like it.

  The bouncer stamped my hand and I walked into what seemed like the most deafening club of all places. The bass boomed right in my ears and I could feel my heart beating rapidly as I looked around. Crowds writhed on the dance-floor and the whole place smelled of beer, sweat and vomit.

  I squared my shoulders, flipped my hair back from my face and took a deep breath. I walked over to the dance-floor, and started swaying to the beat. It was an upbeat hip hop song and soon I started jumping up and down and having a good time like everybody else. It was utter bliss to lose yourself in this obscenity and forget about the misfortunes that happened to me in the past.

  Just as quick as the sensation had came, I stood absolutely still and pressed my hand to my throbbing forehead. I felt bile rising up in my throat, and my skin damp and sticky. I didn't feel too good.

  I looked around frantically and the desire to throw up everything I'd eaten earlier in a back alley was greater than ever. I stumbled towards the exit door marked with a green neon sign, while shoving people aside for their own good, but instead getting irritated yells of 'Hey watch it, bitch!'

  The painful retching made me realise how truly alone and pitiful I was. There wasn't really anyone to hold back my hair while I vomited or anyone to clean me up, and pull me back up onto my feet. I had no real relatives left in this world. And there was my mother...

  Suddenly a pair of hands snaked around my waist and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around to find the guy who I was dancing with, pissed out of his mind and slurring incoherent words.

  'What happened to dancing to all night, babe?' He leered. I found his ugly pug face utterly revolting and I tried to brush past him. He put an arm out and grabbed by the shoulders, he was so close I could smell the odour of smoke and swear off his skin, I could even see the unshaven stubbles on his chin. Under the dim lighting in the alley, he looked ghoulish and menacing. Like a proper crackhead.

  'Piss off and leave me alone.' I hissed.

  'Why would I want to do that?' he chuckled, 'we're going to have some fun, aren't we?'

  He then tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I panicked and began to shove him away.But stopped when I felt cold metal pressed against my throat. My body froze and I failed to disguise the gurgling sounds I was making. I was frightened.

  'That's more like it. Don't move, that's what I'd do.' He threatened. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my pulse accelerate. I felt so vulnerable and I hated the feeling of weakness that smothers you as it rears its ugly head and taunts you. I felt violated, and it made me furious. I didn't have to take any of this. I didn't deserve this.

  And you know when you do something that's not been processed by your brain, but by some part of your inner consciousness? I somehow pried the knife from his hands, and the next thing I knew was the slow and delibrate way he sank onto his knees. His face contorted into a strange expression: you couldn't tell if he was deliriously happy or otherwise.

  Images flashed in my mind. That night, what he did, the knife stuck in my mother's back, now the knife plunged in deep in his abdomen. My vision became a blur of surreal colours and lights. They kept on blinking. I could him moan. I tried to ignore it. I tried to think rationally.

  What do I do now?

  I looked down at my hands. They're covered in blood. Sticky and dark. I could smell it, in the cold air. 

  I thought he had stopped moving. He was so still on the ground. If anyone passed by they would've seen a man passed out on the ground with a frightened girl standing next to his body. They wouldn't think that the innocent looking girl had just murdered him.

  No they wouoldn't. I don't know what to do.

  Shit. Did his hand just... twitch?

  What I did after that, was completely incomprehensible. I steadied my quivering limbs, and stood up straight. I saw some wrinkled newspaper nearby and retrieved them, then I wiped my hands as best as I could. I chucked them in the trash after that.

  Then I simply walked back into the club.

  I wouldn't cover up or dispose the body. Because it never happened. I was never there. I was going to pretend like everything was fine and I'd been inside the nightclub having the time of my life and when the police discovers him in the morning, I'd be far away enough not to raise suspicion.

  That was rather childish of me. How naive was I to think that by ignoring the fact and living with my conscious, it would all go away. I just killed an innocent (sort of) man whom I did not know the name of, and I just deprived his family of a son, or maybe even a husband.

  I didn't care.