𝙉𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡 (𝙗𝙭𝙗)

Chapter Four

Cody P.O.V

We stood out a bit because of our casual clothes, but people still treated my parents with the utmost respect, praising them left and right. I quickly became someone in the background, living in my parent's shadows like always. It was easy to overlook me, especially when my parents were around.

After forty minutes of my parents shaking hands and having light business talk, my parents eventually made quick eye contact. My father, while in mid-sentence, gave my mother a hardly noticeable nod. My mother smiled, apologizing to the people they were talking to before she dismissing herself with the ploy of needing the restroom. If I didn't know any better, I would have actually believed that she was going to the restroom, but I know better.

I was smarter than they give me credit for. It didn't take me long to figure out who their target was; their attention had been on this one particular lady ever since we got here. I didn't know who she was, but she wore a distinctive emerald green dress. My parents had been waiting for her to separate from the group she had been standing in. For the last forty minutes, the lady had been arm-in-arm with a man. Not a minute earlier, she slipped away, likely using the same excuse as my mother.

Knowing what my mother would do made a sense of guilt begin to form in my stomach. I knew I should think about such things, but I couldn't help but wonder if she deserved death. My mother doesn't kill for the fun of it, the same couldn't be said for my dad, but my mother tended to kill only when there was a purpose behind the death. Knowing such a thing only relieved the guilt by a little. Death was still death, and I felt guilty knowing that the lady was probably already dead.

Dad waved the two people he had been talking to off, turning his attention towards me. There was a familiar gleam in my father's eyes. "Cheer-up, they'll be serving food in a few minutes, they should have filets, you're favorite," I wanted to be excited, but I was really wasn't feeling it. I just shrugged at dad, who gave me an odd look. No offense, Dad, but I doubt I'll be hungry.

Dad looked like he wanted to say something else, but someone else came up to him, diverting his attention to the people. It wasn't a minute later that mom came back, a smile on her face. When she returned, she wrapped her warms around dad. It was the way she looked so calm that made the discomfort worsen. She just killed someone, but you wouldn't have guessed it.

It wasn't long before the body was discovered, and when it was, the entire building knew. A high-pitched scream filled the room. Silence took over as a frantic-looking woman came running from the restroom area, a horrified expression on her face.

People surrounded the lady, asking her what was wrong. The lady seemed too panicked to reply to their concerned pleas. My attention turned towards my mother, who took a long sip from her glass of wine, the drink hiding the smirk on her face. A few hotel staff approached the lady, attempting to calm her down and explain why she was panicking. The staff wasn't just trying to calm the lady down they were also trying to keep the other patrons calm as well.

Gossiping whispers spread across the room as people tried to figure out what the lady had been freaked out about. It was almost uncomfortable, hearing everyone whisper about the same thing, all of them oblivious to what had actually happened. A part of me wanted to scream to them that there was a dead woman in the female's restroom, but I knew I couldn't.

It was a couple of minutes before the staff could get anything from the frantic woman, and when they did, a couple of them darted off towards the restrooms, panic in their steps. I knew why, though. It wasn't every day that someone gets told that there was a dead lady in the bathroom.

At least, I hope that isn't a regular occurrence for someone.

The employees who headed towards the bathroom didn't return for a couple of minutes; when they did, they were pale, clearly faking calm demeanors. A few of the other staff members seemed to tense up; it was then that I noticed that a manager-looking guy was talking subtly into a comm set.

Within fifteen minutes, the police showed up. The confusion and panic had spread and worsened during the time. Rumors had spread as well; it had mainly been gossip and people assuming what had happened.

I paid a little attention to the man the lady my mom had killed had been hanging around. The man was beginning to look around anxiously, likely wondering where the lady had gone.

After the police arrived and a medical examiner showed up, they began to investigate the cause of death. The police went around, asking for us to remain in the room until they determined whether the death was a natural one or one with foul play. With the smirk that had been on my mother's face earlier, I knew that they wouldn't likely find anything suspicious about the lady's death.

It was roughly an hour before we were released to go home, and by the time we were, I was happy to get away from the place.

"Ahh, what a day," Mom said as we walked back towards the car. I looked at her, wondering how she could say that with such a happy tone when she had killed someone not an hour earlier.

Maybe it was because they did things like this that made me feel disconnected from them. My parents weren't fazed at all by the thought of killing people, and I would be stupid to assume that they'd stop. It was because of how calm and normal they look after committing such crimes that made me feel . . . I don't know. I don't know exactly how I'm supposed to feel knowing my parents have, and will again, kill people with crazy powers that most people don't have. And what's worse? I have similar abilities that could do the same should I use them in such a way.

Most teenagers have to worry about their parents embarrassing them in various fashions. I have to worry about whether or not my dad is going to get killed by a superhero. Whether or not my mother is going to get caught killing someone. I shouldn't have to deal with this kind of stress, and yet, I was currently walking away from a murder scene that would likely never be seen as a murder.

"Wasn't it?" Dad agreed, opening the door for mom. I stared at them, watching them interact with such a normalness that it worsened my internal stress. Did they not worry about these things? Did they think they'd get away with these things forever?

"Hurry up and get in the car, Dakota, I don't know about you, but I'm starving," Mom said as dad closed her car door. He patted me on the back as he walked around the car, the two of us making very brief eye contact. I said nothing as I got into the car, knowing nothing I could ever say would change anything. I also knew that here of all places, was not the place to be having a conversation about murderous supervillains.

"Cheer up, son," Dad said as he started the car. "We'll go to your favorite place. How about that?" He asked. I didn't say anything; he'd just laugh if I said I wasn't hungry. I may have a lack of appetite, but I don't doubt the woman who found the body is feeling worse.

Not even my favorite place could make me feel okay. Maybe I was overreacting, but having your mother kill someone and act so normal afterward would make anyone uncomfortable. But I should be used to this. They've been doing it for years. I've been a bystander to so many deaths that I could almost feel all the victim's blood pooling around my feet. It was a miracle that I wasn't having nightmares about this kind of thing.

I would have to suffer through this stress alone, though. There wasn't anyone I could tell. There probably would never be anyone I could confide in about this stuff. How many people would stick around if they knew my parents were killers? They wouldn't. They immediately tell the police everything I told them and break my family apart. I couldn't allow that to happen. So I'd have to remain silent about all this and bottle it up like I always do.

Maybe I should look into getting a journal. Pfft, like it would do any good, all I'd right in it is that mom killed people.