I froze, five years old? That didn't add up! We would have noticed, also she would have told us, I think. Briar voiced my thoughts,
"Five? That doesn't add up Paige, maybe you're still delirious," He moved to lay Paige down so she could rest but Paige flailed around in desperation,
"No! Amelia is five years old! She said so herself! Look, she's not mine biologically! I-her parents were my targets and I didn't know I was creating an orphan like us! If I did, I would have killed Amelia too so she could be with them! Sh-she's a stray Kynlee," we were silent, each sinking into the memories of the past just from that one word, stray.
I moved the hand with my Ken doll in it towards Barbie, she had on a wedding dress I had made from an unused tissue, Barbie and Ken held each others hands while I voiced another doll as the priest,
"You may now kiss-" I heard glass shatter nearby, I dropped my dolls and raced out of my room to the stairs that led down to the bottom floor of our mansion. My family was rich and we lived in the capital where all the best shops were in my opinion, my knee length, blue dress swished around my legs and my shiny black shoes squeaked on the polished white stairs. I continued down, starting to get out of breath when I heard the screaming, there were grunts of pain, wails, screams of fear, then silence. I stopped, were they watching a movie without me again? Suddenly, a scream of anguish ripped through the silence, then I heard footsteps coming towards me rapidly. On the opposite side of the banister, my older sister Amalia appeared. Her normally tamed, natural blonde waves where frizzy and wild like she had run for her life, her green eyes were wide with panic and watery with tears. Her boyfriends's jacket, which she always wore, had splatters of red liquid on them and she had a bleeding cut on her smooth, pale forehead. Amalia's white Coniverse's and white knee-high socks were also stained with the same red liquid as were her knees and her fingers. She sighed in relief when she saw me, then ushered me up the stairs and into her walk in closet,
"What's going on Mali?" I asked her before she could close the door her breath was ragged,
"There's a bad guy Kynlee! I can't let him get you! I think he wants our money! You need to stay in here and don't make a sound!" She whispered harshly then she was gone, that was the last time I saw my older sister. I heard her run out of the room and down the stairs, I held my breath in the silence, then she screamed and tears started to fall down my face when all became silent. I was shaking, trying to keep my sobs silent. I was a pampered 12 year old, never experiencing death before, to me it was a thing that happened in movies. Even if loss was new to me, I knew my family was gone and the bad guy was not. My breathing was loud in the silent closet and I feared they would hear me, the hardwood floors creaked as the intruder crept closer. My sobs started coming again and I couldn't stifle them, I knew I was going to die so I stopped holding my tears back and began to sob on the floor of Amalia's closet while the bad guy opened the door. I hid under my sisters hanging dresses and continued to sob, light crept into the shadows I was hiding in until the dresses were pushed aside. The only sound was the hangers gliding on the metal pole while I held my breath and waited to die, I lay there in a ball with my eyes screwed shut for what felt like hours. Finally, I decided to open my eyes. Peeking through the dresses was a young man in a navy blue hoodie and brown pants with multiple pockets. He had a belt around his slender hips with multiple guns, swords, and pouches attached. There was a big sword strapped to his back with small amounts of blood smeared on the hilt and on the opening of the sheath. He had a black glove on one hand and a bandage wrapped around his other bleeding hand, through the thin fabric I could see a hole going straight through the palm of his hand, if I wasn't so terrified I would have smirked, my father took fencing classes and he was very skilled. The man's hoodie was undone at the top and I could see part of his pale, sculpted chest, I blushed and hid my face more while still peeking at him, he had overgrown black hair that hung in his brown eyes that were looking at me as if I was a lost kitten. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore,
YOU ARE READING
What An Assassin Has To Do
FantasyKynlee Salmon is elegant, athletic, driven and a little too impulsive. She was born in a rich family in a developing. She lived free of worries until she was about 12 years old, but at that point things began to change. Someone broke in and murdered...
