Skyfall ✧ John Murphy

Prologue

It's 3AM and I can't sleep. So I wrote this. I hope you like it. :)

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Prologue

I wasn't always like this.

I used to be happy.

I used to be believe in the good.

I used to think that enduring all of the bad things in life would be worth it.

Not anymore. Not now.

When I was seven years old, my father had come to our room drunk. We didn't know how he had gotten his hands on that much alcohol, but my mother and I both ignored it. He was always like that.

He hit my mother, multiple times. I hid in the closet while he did. I wasn't scared of him. I was just afraid that he would hurt her more if he saw me. He punished her for everything.

When he left the room, she opened the door and told me that she was going to the infirmary to see doctor Griffin. I said okay, and I stayed locked in our room.

The more I thought about it, the more angry I got. The more I wanted to hurt him. To make him pay for what he had done to us.

By the time my mother had gotten back, I had tore apart my life-sized doll. The kinds that have metal rods in their spines and limbs so that they don't fall apart. I had tied together four different rods, and had welded them together with my father's blowtorch that he kept in his mechanic's desk, whatever it was called. I made a knife.

Seven year olds aren't supposed to know that. They shouldn't know about how to make their own knife, or how to take apart something and use it to their advantage, or how to use a blowtorch.

That wasn't normal.

I wasn't normal.

I made a promise to myself that he wouldn't hurt her again and get away with it unscathed.

She hid me in the closet, unaware that I had the weapon hidden in my sleeve.

He came back, and beat her again for going to get help for her wounds.

He hurt her, so I hurt him.

I came up behind him, and stabbed him in the crook of his shoulder. Right in an artery. He almost bled out right there, and the guards took him to the infirmary then took me too. I was taken to the sky box, where I stayed in solitary for more than nine more years.

After my father was charged with domestic abuse and was floated, my mother overdosed on drugs she had gotten her hands on over a period of time. She had lost all that was good in her life, everything that she cared for.

She loved us, too much. That was her fatal flaw.

The guards were sympathetic to me. One of them was kind, he was a guard in training and would sneak books to me sometimes. That way, I stayed educated and content.

Bellamy was a good and true friend.

One morning, he told me about his sister. After that day, he never came back. I heard the other guards speaking a few days later about how he had a sister, a crime on the Ark. He helped to hide her, and was punished by no longer being a guard.

But even though I had him for the longest time, I was not happy.

Ever since that day, I was called a monster. A terrorist. In truth, I was only trying to protect my mother, but I suppose I went a little too far.

When people tell you that you are an abomination for almost a decade, you begin to believe it.

I was a calm and docile person, but the things I knew and were capable of doing weren't normal.

Maybe that's why I'm so dangerous to people.

Maybe.

Or maybe it's just because I've turned into the monster that they say I am.