Hehe I like this story a bit more so suck it up and shut up! Your going to listen to me write or listen to me bitch about my day and well since I'm the big man in charge so shh!
PS: Main character's name Zakia is pronounced: ZZ-eh-ke-ah
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SIX years before
I was sitting on a bench in the weapon room cleaning off the last of the yellow slime off of the battle shields when I had heard a loud crash coming from the commons. Knowing my father he was probably just trying to test me.
Smiling to myself I pick my self up, unsheathing my sliver-black knife, I skip across the armory to the hall. In the shadows I blend horribly,my father had always told me I'd never be a good warrior if I didn't stop caring about what I look like,'pink and bows don't help for secretly sneaking my dear' but yet I didn't listen, I remembered clearly seeing my pretty pink bows flop in the shadows as I ran in the dark.
Stopping in my tracks, I heard screams banging along the bare walls.Realizing that this isn't my papa testing me I dropping my small knife, I pull out my crytalline carving knife from my thigh cast.
Sprinting across from shadows I reach the main hall, in wrecks and pieces I spot my father, laying on the floor with a puddle of blood around him. My limbs went numb, lumbering over to kneel in front of him, he grabbed me by my shirt. He smiled, a genuine smile, worth the whole world, the older I grew the longing to see it one last time grew also.
His weak hand curled up to my wet-teared cheek, "Stay strong, Andrew will come in the morning." he croaked.
"They, who did this to you, they'll pay for it with death." I whisper looking at the gaping whole in his chest, he didn't have long, and at age 10 I accepted that.
He smiled, "Don't we all?" He gave a hoarse laugh, quietly he grabbed my discarded knife, lining it in direction of his middle chest,he closed his eyes as he thrust it through his heart, the only thing I knew to be pure.
Whipping my damp cheeks, crashes continued through out the whole house, I looked up and ripped the knife out of my fathers chest.
They will die. I get up and run with all of my stealth ability, I get into my fathers courtiers to see two hunched men ripping his room apart. Angry flared throughout my body.
I tiptoed across the room, I stop dead when one of them ripped out the drawer that held the last of my mothers remaining belongings. My hand tightened over my knife, "Argrah!"
SPLICE!
***
"Zakia? Are you in here,your-" Andrew stopped spotting me curled on the floor covered in blood, "Fuck,Ieah!" (e-ah)
I drop the knife, watching the dried blood flakes fall to the ground. "Andy... They, I, grah!" I turn to sob hard into my hands.
"Come on Zae," (Z-ah-ie) He pulled my hands from my face,"Did-did you kill them?" He motioned to the two lumps of useless flesh.
"Andy! Papa, they- he- eerk!" I pull my hands from his, turning away I sobbed even harder into them.
"Listen Ieah, no more. No more crying your 11 years old no more crying like a wet baby."
YOU ARE READING
The Bitch has a Gun!
Teen FictionZakia, young beautiful lethal, has set out on a killing spring determined to kill ever last one of the bastards that killed her father, she and only she can stop the drugs deals and murders from happening. She is alone in a world of no other, no one...
