Descendants of Kane (probably won't update anymore, stopped watching)

1

My name is Eve Kane, I am seventeen years old, and all of my life I lived in space on The Ark. Everything was all good in my family—my dad was a council member, my mom was loving, and I had great friends—but one day my mom got really sick; I mean really, really sick.

            Mom went down to the medical center and she was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors told her she had a few months to live because there was absolutely no way that they could get the tumor out of her head without doing serious damage to other parts of her brain. My dad took her diagnosis the hardest, and every night when she was in pain he would cry—I would just sit in my room pretending not to hear it.

            Then, one day, Mom didn’t wake up; she died without any pain. My dad was distraught for months, I was too, but he had different coping methods than I did.

            Dad met this woman by the name of Kristy, she seemed nice at first, but I had never been so wrong before in my life. I guess that Dad thought he was going to get a bad image if he didn’t marry somebody, so he and Kristy got married.

            Once Kristy moved in with us I got to see the real side of her—to put it simply, she was a gold digging drunk who liked to abuse me. There is absolutely no nice way of putting what she was, because she was and will forever be my evil step-mother.

            Kristy would beat me senseless day and night, but Dad never did anything about it; he had to pretend that his family life was absolutely perfect, so that he wouldn’t get any negative attention from the citizens of The Ark. I want to forgive him for ignoring the abuse so bad, but I just can’t; I was abused for four and a half years straight, so there’s no way I can ever forgive and forget.

            One day I just completely snapped, so I decided to steal a screwdriver from the engineering department; somehow I wasn’t caught. I went back to the cabin, and I sat and waited for Kristy to come back from her excessive drinking at the bar.

            She walked in the door as drunk as she could be, and she spat a few harsh words at me before she threw her bottle of whiskey at my head. The brown bottle smashed into the wall behind me, and I began to quake in fear—there was no telling what she was going to do to me that day.

            “What are you gonna’ do you little shit?” Kristy slurred, “Wait for your daddy to come home? He’s completely useless, and we’re all going to die anyway.” I took deep breaths as Kristy charged at me, and she shoved me into a corner.

            Her bony hands hit at my body in so many different places it was hard to keep track of where; Kristy shoved me into the wall, and my head smacked off of it hard. My vision was slightly impaired as the world kept tilting.

            “Come on you little bitch,” Kristy taunted, “Hit me!” I wanted to hit her so badly, but I knew that if I laid a hand on her she would beat me even more. As Kristy hit me, I fell to the ground in an attempt to protect myself from the blows to the head that I was receiving.

            Come on, Eve. It’s now or never, I thought to myself. Doing what the voice in my head instructed, I pulled the black screwdriver from my pants pocket, and I stabbed it into Kristy’s foot. She wailed in pain, but I quickly ripped it out and stood up.

            Kristy backed up from me, but I kept my bloody screw driver held high. If I don’t finish this now, I’ll never have another chance¸ I thought. Then, I charged at Kristy, and with my brute force shoved her to the floor paneling.

            Never in my life had I ever seen a look of pure and utter terror quite like hers, but I knew I had to do what was right—like Dad said, “Do it for the human race.” I sat down onto Kristy’s stomach and restrained her hands with my legs, and she was screaming as loud as she could while drunk; I placed my right hand over her mouth to drown out her screams.

            Then, all of my rage flowed, and I swung the screwdriver into her chest. I plunged it as deep as I could, but that still didn’t satisfy me. To meet my needs, I stabbed the screw driver into her chest over and over making sure that each time it went deeper into Kristy’s chest, and her blood flowed everywhere—I was covered in blood.

            I couldn’t keep my rage controlled any longer. “This is what you deserve after abusing me for four years!” I screamed as I began to plunge the weapon into her neck, and I won’t say that it didn’t feel good to see all of that blood. “You deserve to fucking die!” I screamed, and then I plunged the screwdriver directly in the center of Kristy’s forehead.

            She stopped squirming, and fell completely limp. A large pool of blood surrounded us, and I could hear hearts pounding that weren’t my own. I glanced over at the front door, and standing in the door way was my father and two other guards in pure shock.

That’s how all of this started; all of this hell on Earth started with me killing my step-mother. All of the doctors ask me if I felt sorry for my dad, and what I tell them is, “I did what I had to do.”