Roses & Crime

Part 12- Childhood Memories

"What are you doing here?!" You ask, you were furious, he knew better than to show his face to you every again.

"Y/n sweetie, please here me out." Your father pleaded.

"No, leave before I call the cops, or better yet, one of my friends in the FBI." You warn.

"Sweetie, don't be ridiculous. I'm just here to talk to you since you haven't answered my text or calls." You could hear that he was trying to stay calm, not getting mad.

"I'll give you 30 seconds, and if you aren't gone by then, I'm calling my friends."

"Please here me out! I found out about a month ago that I have cancer." Your vision starts to go burry. NO. You were not going to be sad for someone who abused your mom when you were little.

"Your 30 seconds are up, now leave!" You tell before slamming the door in his face. You wipe your eyes, and go back to cleaning up.

All you could think about was him. It had taken you years to forget about him, but now all that effort was lost. You didn't want to be sad, after what he had put your mom through. He made your whole family's life a living hell.

You see your phone light up with a call. It was from Spencer. You knew you couldn't talk to him without him knowing something was wrong, so you let it go to voicemail. A few seconds later, you get a text from him.

From Spencer- "Hey, sorry if I called you at a bad time, I just wanted to say sorry for not being able to hang out tonight."

You wanted to answer, but you felt too upset to trust yourself not to tell him everything right now. He was too busy with a case, you didn't want to bother him.

You open your bottom draw in your nightstand, moving everything away, and pulling out the gun you had buried under all of your stuff.

You used to carry a gun around when you were in college, when your dad was still out to get your mother. You worried that he might come after you for calling the cops on him. You had spent your free time in the week to practice using it, you had actually gotten really good at it.

Flashback

It was two days before your 18th birthday, and you could hear you parents fighting from your bedroom. You are sitting with your younger brother who is one year younger than you.

"I wish he'd stop." You brother whispered, obviously scared.

"I know, me too." You say solemnly.

You heard a loud bang from the living room, where they were. Your brother flinches beside you.

This had all started when your father's mother died from cancer, it was genetic. Her father had it and passed down a gene that increased her chances of getting it.When we found out she had it, your dad had start acting different, you figured he was just sad, but then your mom started getting bruises. She had just said it was from falling or running into things, but you didn't quite believe here.

Then when his mom died, they started fighting. He wouldn't hit her in front of you, but you could hear her cries for him to stop.

You heard you mother cry out, and then a gunshot. You are instantly on your feet, running.

When you get to the living room,
You see a hole in the wall above your mother's head.

You crouch down so that your dad didn't see you.

"Next time it will be in your head, or maybe y/n's if she smarts off to me again."

You run back to your room where your brother had been frozen in fear.

"It's okay, she's fine. I'm going to fix this." You say as you pick up your phone and dial 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

You tell the woman on the phone everything and she says that the cops should be there in 10 minutes and to stay on the line till then.

"YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!" Your dad yells at you as the cops pull him out of the house

End of Flashback

He had been taken to court for attempted murder, but was unfortunately never charged, but was never charged. You hadn't see your mom or brother since you went off to college. You felt bad for not checking on them, but you would send them gifts every two months.

Your dad was a classic narcissist, he had just hidden it well till his mom died. You put the gun in your purse, and began packing your bag. It was time to make a visit.