CHAPTER FIVE

MARCUS'S POV 

A few minutes later I got out of the shower drying my wet hair with my extra fluffy white towel. I applied some lotion on my body and started getting dressed. I wore some blue jeans and I white t-shirt that had “GUCCI” written on it.

Not only that, but I kept hearing muffled sounds downstairs and a shiver ran down my spine. Something was definitely happening. 

Mom could be in serious danger.

I opened the door and rushed downstairs and I recognized my father's voice he was back home again.

I froze mid-step when father stabbed mother right in front of me. Not only that, but I had never seen so much blood in my entire life.

Mother slumped to the floor and I stared at her with wide eyes.

JAMES POV

I dropped the knife staring at the pool of blood Faith was laying in. I moved backwards when she winced in pain.

“Marcus…” she whispers weakly, trying to reach out to him. When I turned around I was stunned to find Marcus staring at me like the monster I was.

The boy looked at me and then glanced at the knife covered in blood. Faith's blood.

“Marcus I can-” before I could explain he walked past me and rushed to his mother's side clenching her hand tightly.

“Mom…” he sobs.

“Hush son don't cry I'll be alright…”

Marcus shook his head negatively.

“No you're not alright please let me call the doctor I don't want to lose you…” he cries.

“It's already too late for my son… just promise me one thing.”

“Mom please…” I pleaded.

“Promise me that you'll find-find your sister please…” 

“Mom I don't have a sister.”

“Find her she-she has a star shaped birthmark on the back of her neck.”

She took her last breath and her body became limp and stilled.

“Mom…” I sobbed miserably and hugged her staining my white shirt in her blood, but I didn't care.

Father hurled me away from her and closed her eyes. Eyes that were blank with no emotion they only held pain and an endless tunnel of darkness and suffering.

He killed her.

I struggled to get out of his strong grip.

“Let go of me!” I yelled angrily, throwing pathetic punches and kicks at him, but they didn't affect him.

“Calm down Marcus and shut up!” He yelled furiously.

Was he being serious?

Calm down and relax? After I had witnessed him killing my mother in cold blood that too without any regrets or mercy.

Angry tears rolled down my cheeks.

I still couldn't believe that this was the man who actually fathered me. I stared at him with pure hatred.

“Stop looking at me like that!” He snapped angrily.

“I hate you, I hate you!” I shouted acidly my whole body shook with rage when I glanced at my mother's dead body.

“You don't deserve to live. I wish you were the one dead instead of someone who truly cared about me. Everyone was right, you're shameless, and you're nothing but a bastard.” 

“Marcus enough!” He yelled stopping midair when he tried to slap me.

I swallowed hard but never looked away, my eyes challenging him.

He withdrew his hand and let me go.

He killed the only person that mattered the most to me, and now I had lost my true happiness. 

Furthermore, he took away my mother. 

He looked at me and sighed deeply.

“Son I know you must hate me right now…” he said quietly and his eyes darkened.

Oh, so now it was son?

I thought I was a disappointment, and I was never his real son.

“I am not your son and I never will be” I muttered harshly but firmly. 

“If you continue with this cold attitude I swear I'm going to make your life miserable trust me.”

“I don't care.” 

He grabbed me by the collar shoving me against the wall angrily.

“Look Marcus I don't know where the fuck you got this rude cold attitude, but it ain't from me” he said through gritted teeth.

And I scoffed that he had awakened a very evil darkness inside me, and now he's going to have to deal with it.

“I swear if you breathe a word of what you saw to any living soul you will meet the same fate as your mother. Even if you're my blood I won't hesitate to kill you I will snap your neck like a twig.”

He released me and went upstairs.

I slumped to the floor sobbing painfully.

A few minutes later he came back looking all relaxed and calm. He was dressed in a clean linen blue shirt and black jeans.

“Stay away from the dead body I'm going to the police station and stop looking at me like that people might get suspicious. Just cry or do something else huh you're a clever boy.”

I spared him one hateful look, and he closed the door banging it loudly.

An hour later the detectives barged in and the father was with them looking all sad and broken.

The detectives asked me a few questions, but I chose to remain silent. Father assured them that I was traumatized by mother's unexpected death.

Father had told them that the mother had killed herself they tagged her case as a suicide case.

A few minutes later they carried the mother, placing her in a sealed grey bag. The detectives had suggested that we move out of the house as soon as possible since it was a crime scene.

A few weeks later father forcefully took me to his mistresses house. At first, she pretended to be all nice to me, but I knew that she was fake.

Her two kids Jim and Minnie were more annoying than ever; they were nosy and disgusting.

I never really liked them.

A year later he remarried again and married his mistress. Her name was Cindy Summers. She might have seemed nice at first, but she was the devil in disguise.

She certainly wasn't the nicest human being in the world and I disliked her.

Likewise, she was always abusive, and she often called me awful names.

“Marcus get your lazy ass down here fast!” She yelled furiously, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance plugging in my earphones increasing the volume.

I wasn't going to give into her demands any more. I was tired of being her goddamn servant besides I wasn't here to entertain her.

Not only that, but I could hear her banging on my door loudly, but I acted like I didn't hear her high-pitched voice.

“Argh you're just as useless as your damn father!” She yelled.

I took off my earphones and heard her groan in frustration and head back downstairs.

Moments like these made me miss my mother today was my eighth birthday the day she died and left me behind.

Ever since she died I never really liked celebrating my birthday any more it always brought back the memories of that horrible day she was murdered in cold blood.

My so-called father never ever showed any sign of guilt he was happy plus his new wife was now expecting their third child she was heavily pregnant.

They seemed lost in their own world while I suffered alone. I hated them with every fibre inside me. A part of me wanted to personally kill them and feed their bodies to vultures.

I was becoming messed up and who called blame me. I was staying with a killer 24/7.

If I became a ruthless serial killer I wouldn't be surprised.