Sharks and Wolves

A strategic plan,

schemes and themes,

circle then injure,

unsuspecting stranger,

outsmart the wolves and sharks?

A wide grin,

greed and malice light bright behind those eyes,

seemingly persuasive wordsmith,

yet intuition and paranoia warns discretion,

advises isolation and self protection.

Thicker skin,

a voice of thunder from years past calls out,

“Remember…..Remember who you are”,

must go on even through the pain,

Royals?, Such ancient terms,

not a keen to get lost in a town called, Life,

for the appropriate Kingdom Title,

seeks authentic warriors,

nothing more but Honor and Pride,

to die by the Sword,

and released at sea on Fire,

true convictions here.

Standards are of the utmost high,

for such acquired Grace from generations of plenty of gold,

the Surname of most respect,

wear the Family Crest like the most coveted Family Jewels.

Sharks and Wolves,

enemies clear and hidden,

the wise keep their wits about them,

not fooled by the propaganda, rumors and lies,

shall not be silenced nor dethrone,

high intelligence dodges the wolves,

superior physiques build strong legs to out-swim and outrun,

the Kingdom lays dormant in longing for the rightful Heir,

but much torture could lure a sinful despair,

yet solutions and wits are in abundance,

Honor and Pride act as an impenetrable force shield,

however the War has just begun.

What monstrous creatures lurk here?

Ridden with jealousy, envy, greed and hatred,

pilings of flesh,

stolen gold and a poisoned  Prince,

tyrants on high horses,

breeding monsters with blood money,

ugly ghastly creatures they are.

Dragons lying in wait,

searching for the Wise,

for the stale bread yields no fruits,

humming rattles the ancient birds,

then silence…

“To live and Die by the Sword”, echoes out

and so she marches on.

 

 

 

 

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Breaking Point

We thought she coincidently came into our lives; wishfully hoping for someone to save us from our tragedies. The latter was a huge misinterpretation on our parts for she slithered into our worlds like a snake. When she was done with us she left us completely bewildered and damaged. Never thought I would fraternize with a she-demon, but I have come to realize that life is full of unexpected surprises. It was like we were under some enchantment but I knew better. Never been the one to believe in fairy tales and wasn’t going to start now. Nevertheless, I admit I was submissive to her charm yet still remained skeptical about her.

It was on one September morning that she walked into the offices of Wildon Barks Accounting. I was at the front desk when I noticed through my periphery someone coming towards me with wild curly brown hair. I turned to see and there she was walking towards me with wild curly brown hair with front honey blond highlights. Her skin was of a olive texture and she had an ample sized body. She was wearing a black v-neck top with a straight leg denim.

“Hi, I’m Ericka” she smiled at me. She has a nice smile, I thought. I was stunned by her beauty and envied her for it. I guess that is why I never kept much girl friends around because they were all prettier than me and I don’t like sharing the spotlight.

“I’m Jordan” I smiled back at her. She went on to tell me that she was a new hire and was excited about the opportunity to meet new people. Over the next few months we grew “close”, I used that word lightly. I mean she was nice and all but something in my gut told me she wasn’t right. She never got mad when Becky insulted her; Becky was one of the supervisors on the third floor. Becky was a red head she-devil that would run you over if you didn’t please her every whim. A real character, that Becky. I figured her out the first time I met her. She might be nice to you but that’s all a ruse to extract your secrets and use them against you. She’s a conniving blood sucker and she still hasn’t figured me out. Here and there I spread some insignificant details about my life to keep her at bay but I’m a master at living a perfect lie. I digress.

Ericka never got mad at anything; she was always so calm and happy. How can a person be so happy and stress-free? I wondered many nights in my bed. My problem is that I like to think too much and know too much. Apparently, the solution was to psycho analyze her. I began to study her behavior and habits. You might think I’m just paranoid but I was paranoid for a reason. She was just too good to be true and that is a very dangerous sign. During our time together, I didn’t feel any emotional connection until she opened up to me about an affair she had with three of our co-workers. One of them was Roberto, which Jenny had a crush on. Jenny and Ericka knew each other before she started working there. Ericka knew Jenny liked Roberto but she still went after him. She told me she didn’t do anything but I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t believe it. It was like an episode from a very dramatic scene in Gossip Girl. I wasn’t really shocked by what she did because I knew she wasn’t a “good girl” for lack of a better and nicer term. Foolishly, for some reason I opened up about my traumatic past in high school and that’s when all went to hell. I told her not to tell anyone but she did.

Everyone at work got word of my past by later that evening. They indirectly made comments to me about certain isolated incidents which I disregarded as just coincidences. Truthfully, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence but couldn’t muster up the strength to confront her. I’m not one to express what I feel because I compartmentalize. I keep everything in but that just seeps out into psychotic temper tantrums when I get completely fed up with everything. Summer came along and things really got heated. She started sleeping with Markus, our Assistant Manager. Perhaps it was even before then but I still figured something was going on between them. I suppose she thought I liked him because she would insinuate to the latter and tried to evoke a reaction from me. She would flirt with him and bring him up during conversations, sometimes indirectly. She thought she was clever but that was her mistake; she underestimated me.

Essentially, her perspective of me was that I was poor sad Jordan who couldn’t get a date and had no close friends. I agreed to her consensus that I was an emotional wreck ravaged by years of rejection and pain. Needless to say my emotions stayed out of the matter because I was her temporary pet. Yes, she stroked my ego and filled my head with beautiful nothings but the fantasy never really engulfed me. My skepticism kept reality vivid. I decided to confront her one day while exploring the city. I told her about everything that I knew and what she really was.

“So, you think you know me” she laughed. “What you think you’re so perfect?!” she screamed. It was the first time she ever let her true feelings show and it was an epic sight. I took off her mask. She went on to belittle me and point out all my indiscretions. I let her scream and yell at me. Suddenly, she did something I did not expect. She started to cry and then punched me in the face. We got into a brawl only to be separated by street cops.

In my moment of anger, I printed out the texts she sent me of her affair and sent them to our boss. I told everyone about her affairs. I didn’t want to hurt Jenny, but she had to know that the person she thought was her friend was not a friend at all. Roberto, Clive, and Maurice humiliated her at work for her deceit. They pronounced her as the office whore. Markus broke off the agreement he had with her because she wasn’t worth him losing his job. He advised her that if she tried anything he would destroy her. The damage was already done, she had left him in more distress than he started with; broke and still living with the folks.

Jenny slapped Ericka when we went to work the next day. Our boss, called Ericka into his office later that afternoon, and fired her. I thought that was the last of her but I was wrong. I was home alone one night watching TV when the door bell rang. It had been three months since I got rid of Ericka. I went downstairs to open the door and came to face with the mouth of a Glock-47.

“Everyone has their breaking point” (shots fired).

Chapter 5: The Perfect Happy Family

Chapter  5.

“Lisa” I heard a distant low voice say. I felt so groggy and my head was pounding. As I opened my eyes, everything seemed so blurry at first and for a moment I wasn’t sure where I was. Then I remembered everything that occurred before I passed out.

“Are you ok?” someone asked as I turned to the direction of the voice. Standing next to my hospital bed was a young nurse with a real bad blonde hair dye. I mean if you’re going to go blonde, get it done right! She was alright looking though but those nurse clothes did her body no justice. I could barely make out her name as I struggled to read her name tag. After my eyes adjusted to the poor dim lights, I was finally able to read her name. Her name tag read, Jasmine Connor.

“I feel like I have a hangover,” I murmured.

“You took a nasty fall,” Jasmine said.

“No, really, you think?!” I retorted.

“Do you want to see your brother? Your mother is still in intensive care.” Jasmine smiled.

“I can’t handle people right now. I need to rest,” I muttered.

“Ok, is there anything you need?” Jasmine asked.

“No, thank you. You may go.” I replied. She smiled at me and I watched her leave my room. Essentially, all I wanted to do was lose myself in oblivion. If only I could slip away but my dreams are prone to project black and white images of the disaster that is my life. No amount of money can fix the troubles of a dysfunctional family; it is like living in a strange world. Longing to catch some sleep but with no avail because father abruptly burst into the room.

“Oh honey!”

“How’s my princess?” Father uttered.

“A bloody mess” I smiled.

“Are you ok? How’s your mother?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine but mother is still in intensive care,” I replied.

“What happened?” Father inquired.

“She passed out due to excessive exercising with an empty stomach,” I quickly replied. It wasn’t the whole truth but I couldn’t actually tell him everything. It wasn’t my place to say. Mother would have to tell him but it was highly doubtful that she would. She would get an abortion behind his back rather than own up to her indiscretions. Mother was never one to take responsibility for her actions; she always took the easy way out.

“So how is the food here? You want me to bring you something?” Father suddenly asked interrupting my thoughts.

“I haven’t eaten anything, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Don’t really feel like eating anything, though,” I replied.

“Ok, princess,” Father smiled. He stayed a few hours with me then went to check on mom. James came in to check on me and told me mother was awake now. Dr. Daniels gave me a quick check-up around 7:30 then said it was ok for me to go home, if I wished to go. There was no way I was going home until I found out who was the father of the baby my mother was carrying. I slipped into her room and saw father sitting besides her holding her hand. They were looking into each other’s eyes so lovingly. What great actors are my parents? I thought to myself. I made up some wild request for California rolls from Yung Shi Delicacy, which is the most luxurious sushi restaurant in Malibu. There is a two year waiting list to even get a table there but father is friends with the owner so he gets access anytime. Of course, father would jump and go just to please his princess.  After he left, I gave mother a stern look.

“It’s not Quinn’s,” mother said in a low voice.

“Whose is it, then,” I demanded.

“Mark Beyer’s” mother answered.

“What?!” someone screamed and we both turned to see James by the door. Oh, no, I thought. Mom, how could you?

“You slept with my boyfriend!” James stormed in yelling at mom.

“Your boyfriend?!” mother screamed. I saw the color drain from James face as he realized what he had just done. There was no coming back from this; what was done was done.

“I hate you!” James cried out as he turned and ran crying out the door, while I sank to my knees as I saw my perfect life crumble.

Chapter 4: The Perfect Happy Family

PHF: Chapter 4

How did Quinn know about father? I wondered as I drove out the driveway  in my new white BMW. I had gotten it for my 16th birthday. My mind was consumed with so much chaos that I could barely concentrate on the road. I felt like I was going to get a heart attack. The drive to school was seemingly frenzied. I almost ran over an elderly woman while contemplating how I was going to get rid of Quinn. She gave me a death stare when I stopped just a few inches from her; I didn’t really care though. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment. When I arrived at school I begrudgingly got out the car and headed to my homeroom. The St. Bernard High School looked mighty with its Greek inspired architecture and beautiful green lawn. It was indeed quite beautiful. As I walked up the marble steps and through the huge expensive wood doors into the empty cathedral hallway, I completely disregarded the fact that I was extremely late for my first class.

I hurried up the white marble stairs in my Balenciaga heels to my Economics class. Professor Michaels was writing equations on the board when I opened the door. Everyone looked my way as I slid into my desk.

“Glad you could make it, Bertha” Michaels exclaimed in a sarcastic tone. He was not only my economics professor but also my godfather. Bertha was my middle name which was given to me in my great grandmother’s honor. I hated that name. He knew I hated it and so he tormented me with it. I gave him a fake smile and grabbed my book out my Louis Vuitton messenger bag.

“Yes, I’m glad you’re here” someone gushed behind me. I turned around to smile at Patrick. We had assigned seats so it could only be him. Patrick has been my best friend since kindergarten and he’s also Michaels son. I loved Patrick’s smile; he had this crooked nerdy smile but yet it was still so intriguing to me. Mother always teased us that we would get married but I could never see him as a love interest because I’ve know him since we were in diapers.

“Oh, you’re such a doll” I responded playfully. Patrick laughed then motioned for me to pay attention because his father was glaring at us. I turned around without looking at Michaels direction and just stared at my book with a sheepish smile on my face. I couldn’t concentrate on anything throughout the day. The day seemed like a blur and I became frustrated over stupid things. All I could think about was upholding my family’s name and reputation. Reputation is everything in my world and threats are not taken lightly. You would think I was this rich weak little stupid girl but yet again you would be wrong. I’m in the top five percent of my class, captain of the soccer team, and I volunteer at a children’s hospital. I do it all and I have it all.
When I got back home, mother was exercising again but this time she decided to do yoga in the kitchen.

“Mom, did you even eat?” I asked her.

“Never” she responded breathlessly. I rolled my eyes in disapproval. She never ate anything. I mean, when she felt like she was going to pass out she would grab a small piece of cheddar cheese but that was it. Mother still looked like a model and her face was flawless.

“How was school?” mother asked me.

“Great” I lied as I headed up to my room. My mind was racing with thoughts of what had happened the last few days. I didn’t want to think about it because I was driving myself insane. How could a person feel and think so much? I thought I would explode. I shouldn’t have all this stress, hence the fact that I’m only 17 and should only be worried about getting top grades at school. When I entered my room I threw myself upon my bed covered with the finest 800 thread count Egyptian sheets; only the best for me. I contemplated doing some homework but was too reluctant.
A few hours later, I felt hands shaking me. Apparently, I had fallen asleep which was weird because I never took naps. It was James who was franticly trying to get me up. He looked worried.

“What is your problem?” I asked hastily.

“Mum is passed out on the kitchen floor,” James screamed. I jumped out my bed and ran out with James right behind me. When I got to the kitchen I saw our mom sprawled on the floor. She looked so pale.

“Call 911!” I yelled at James. We stayed by her side while we waited for the ambulance. Of course, the whole community would be outside our house because everyone wants to know everything about everyone here in Sevres Avenue. When we got to the hospital all James and I could do  was wait anxiously for any news of mother. We tried calling our father but he wasn’t picking up his phone. The doctor finally came out a few moments later.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Daniels. You must be Mrs. Monroe’s children, correct?”

“Yes”, James and I responded in unison.

“How’s are mother? What happened?” I asked.

“Your mother has been starving herself and excessively exercising” Dr. Daniels responded. “In her condition, she should be taking better care of herself.”

“What do you mean in her condition?” James asked.

“Don’t you know? Your mother is pregnant.” Dr. Daniels answered. I suddenly felt dizzy. Our parents slept in different rooms and haven’t had sex in seven years. So, that baby belonged to only one person, Quinn. My knees started to shake and then everything went black. The last thing I heard was James screaming my name.

Malcolm: I’m a serial Killer

Malcolm: I can’t fathom the purpose for my being. I drift away from people because I’m scared they will not accept me for who I am. I’m not quick to give up my life story. My words are mostly insincere. I won’t let anybody get close to me because I’m bound to disappoint them. I’m tired of being this way. I have no friends. The truth is eating me up inside but I would never give it up. I make up clever stories for the bruises on my body because no one needs to know that I cut and beat myself up when I feel insecure. I got no reason, no shame, no family I can blame for my sorrow. I think I’m a borderline psycho path. I kill neighborhood pets on my free time and I like it. I’ve been doing it since I was nine and haven’t been caught yet. I’m 16 now. At night I dream of my death. I’m guessing lethal injection because one day I will evolve from killing animals to humans. This time I’m writing everything down; I’m giving all my secrets away. The headline reads: Malcolm, the Serial Killer.
I feel like eyes are always on me; as if they know my secrets. They are all fools. I make it seem like a ravenous animal has been terrorizing the neighborhood pets. The smell of death lingers like the burnt holocaust bodies in concentration camps. I close my eyes and envision all the houses on this block burning to the ground with their inhabitants still in them; screaming for their lives but with no escape.
“Malcolm!” a shrilling voice screams. I open my eyes abruptly to the sudden outburst of my foster mother, Martha, yelling out my name. I suppose she wants to beat me some more for letting Spike, our dog, spill wine all over her new white rug. Spike was not allowed in the living room because that was the forbidden room. No one was allowed in there except when we had company. Martha made us play and eat in the den. She didn’t want us to ruin her perfect clean house. She was a petite woman with an Afro of curly red hair. I hated her so much and had wanted to kill her many times. She always took out her frustrations on me and I guess because I was the oldest. I’ve been under her care since I was six years old. I was her first; her first foster child, that is. I keep telling myself that I only have two more years to go and I would be free from her. Free? I suppose not exactly free because the darkness that is inside me will keep me prisoner to an evil I cannot be free from. I know I won’t make it to my 30th birthday because I would have been sentenced to death before then.
Martha screams for me again and so I begrudgingly pull myself out my bed and open my bedroom door.
“What do you want?” I yell down.
“Come down here now!” she yells back at me. I slowly walk down the wood staircase and find her at the bottom looking agitated as always.
“I need you to clean the kitchen. We will be having company. No fuss, just do it!” she ordered me as she walked off to the living room. I walked to the kitchen to find it a complete mess. There was a pile of dirty dishes on both sides of the counter and there were dishes piled high in the sink. Spike had left a trail of poop and urine all over the kitchen floor. The refrigerator was smeared with chocolate hand-prints; works of Nathan, Kevin, Jules, and Brian-the five year old quadruplets that Martha had just taken in. Those little brats were making my life miserable. I had to clean up their mess! I spent three hours cleaning up the kitchen. When I went out to take out the trash that afternoon, I saw a raccoon by the backyard fence. The urge to see the life leave its eyes was too hard to resist. I caught it with no trouble and without hesitation jabbed my pocket knife into its skull. There it lay lifeless and I smiled.
“What are you doing” a sweet little voice asked. My heart skipped a beat. I looked back to see Jules trying to peak at the dead raccoon.
“You killed it” he whispered.
“It was sick, I had too” I replied. I beckoned him to come closer. I grabbed his arm when he was in arms length and harshly whispered in his ear that if he ever told anyone I would cut his throat while he was sleeping.
“Do you understand?” I asked him. He nodded yes with eyes wide.

The Perfect Happy Family: Chapter 3

PHF: Chapter 3

I came around a while later to James splashing my face with water from a spritz bottle. My eyes were blurry and I felt like I had a really bad hangover. “Why does my head hurt so much?” I asked wearily. Somehow I had blocked all sounds because James had been screaming at me the whole time.

“Are you okay?!” James yelled at me.

“Whoa! Not so loud, dude” I responded feverishly.

“I slapped your face a couple of times but you wouldn’t wake up. I was about to call mom and dad….” James’ voiced trailed off.  So that’s why my head hurt so much, I thought to myself. Why hadn’t I woken up? A slap to the face would surely wake me up but James said he hit me a couple of times.

“So, I didn’t move or anything when you hit me?” I asked James

“No, it was weird. You lay there like a dead body.” He responded with a concern look on his face.

“Well I’m not dead, see!” I joked even though I was actually perplexed by what had happened.

“Did you eat?” James asked.

“Uh, yeah” I lied.

“So what were we talking about before I fainted?” I asked.

“I told you I was planning to marry Mark” James said with a smile on his face.

“You can’t marry him. You can’t.” I hissed.

“I thought you’d be happy for me! I guess I was wrong.” James murmured.

“You really think this is a good plan? You know what they’ll do to you at school?” I screamed. Suddenly, my bedroom door drew open and mother rushed in with a scowl.

“Shut up and go to bed!” she shushed at us. She then turned and walked back to her bedroom. We waited until we heard her close her door. James got up and headed towards the door also. I grabbed his arm.

“You can’t tell anybody about this. We’ll be ruined. You’ll be ruined.” I whispered in a harsh tone.  He just looked at me then shook away from my grip. I watched him as he walked to his bedroom to the other side of the house. No one could ever know that my brother is a gay, I thought. We would be the laugh of the town if anyone ever found out. Oh, the tragedy.  So there and then I made it my mission to be my family’s keeper. My mother is an adultery, my father is a cross dresser, and my brother is a gay. It was all too much for one day and I threw myself on my bed without changing into my pajamas. I hold my family’s secrets like the government keeps theirs. It was two in the morning by the time I feel asleep but I didn’t sleep for long. I had to wake up early for school three hours later. It was a typical Monroe morning. Father was already at the clinic, mother was exercising downstairs in our top of the art gym, and Clarisse had already made breakfast for me and James.

“James is not going to school today” Clarisse said as I walked into the kitchen.

‘What’d you mean?” I responded. “He was fine last night.”

“Well he told me he won’t be going to school today” Clarisse retorted in an annoyed tone. I retracted back up our marble steps as fast as I could to James’ room. I didn’t even knock-I just burst in.

“Yeah, see you later” I caught him saying to his phone before he hung up.

“Knock much?!” he yelled at me.

“No, you know me. Miss no manners” I mocked. “Why aren’t you going to school?”

“I’m sick.” He said with a facetious cough.

“Loser” I said as I walked out of his bedroom and made my way back to the kitchen. When I got back to the kitchen Clarisse was jumping up and down with giddiness.

“I got good gossip!” she yelled.

“What?” I ran to her with intrigue.

“Miss Sahib found panties not hers under her bed. She’s angry with Mr. Quinn!” Clarisse gushed. My heart stopped. Those were mother’s panties.

“So, is she kicking him out?” I asked Clarisse.

“I heard she wants to know the woman’s name so she could kill her” Clarisse exclaimed. Clarisse was all about the drama and neighborhood gossip. She never revealed her sources; she was smart like that. A few seconds later the door bell rang. I went to get the door but stopped in my tracks in horror when I saw that it was Sane Sahib. Did she know? It would be an insult to injury in Sahib’s case because she was one of mother’s closest friends. I regained my posture and attained all the courage I could muster as I opened the door.

“Hi” I said with a shaky voice. Sane just looked at me through her dark brown eyes. She was crying. Her usually flawless golden brown hair lay messy around her shoulders. She was a complete mess in her ripped blue jeans and stained white t-shirt.

“Is your mother home?” she sobbed.

“Uh….” I murmured but was interrupted by mother.

“Hey, oh honey, come in” mother gestured at Sane to come in. “What’s wrong?”

“Quinn cheated on me and won’t tell me with whom!” Sane screamed.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that” mother said to Sane while comforting her. I looked at mother in disgust.

“Don’t you need to be off to school?” mother asked me.

“Yes, of course!” I replied and ran to get my book bag. I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. My mother was sleeping with her friend’s husband and didn’t show any remorse. How could she be so vile? I wondered.  As I walked out my house I saw Mr. Quinn heading towards me.

“You have some nerve” I hissed at him.

“Me. What about your mother?” he asked seeming appalled. “What about your father?”

“What you mean my father?” I asked.

“I know your father’s secret” Quinn smirked at me. “Your father is a cross-dresser” he laughed.

“You wouldn’t dare” I threatened.

“Or would I? Don’t test me child.” He retorted. I then knew I had to get rid of him.

“What do you want?” I asked

“Let’s just say you keep your secret and I’ll keep mine” he responded. There was no way I was going to trust him with such a huge secret. I had to get rid of him one way or another; even if it meant taking drastic measures. He had to disappear. He had to die because no one is suppose to know but me. No one can ever find out the truth about my family.

Secrets

Secrets

        This is the story of three high school students that keep terrible secrets. First is a junior named Malcolm, a loner and foster child that is a serial killer in the making.  Second is a sophomore named Stacy, which is envious of her mother so she starts having an affair with her mother’s husband.  Third, is a senior named Patrick who hates his father and plans to kill him to take over the family business so that he could inherit 100 billion dollars and marry his father’s girlfriend.

            Malcolm: I can’t fathom the purpose for my being. I stray away from people because I’m scared they will not accept me for who I am. I’m not quick to give up my life story. My words are mostly insincere. I won’t let anybody get close to me because I’m bound to disappoint them. I’m tired of being this way. I have no friends. The truth is eating me up inside but I would never give it up. I make up clever stories for the bruises on my body because no one needs to know that I cut and beat myself up when I feel insecure. I got no reason, no shame, no family I can blame for my sorrow.  I think I’m a borderline psycho path. I kill neighborhood pets on my free time and I like it. I’ve been doing it since I was nine and haven’t been caught yet. I’m 16 now.  At night I dream of my death. I’m guessing lethal injection because one day I will evolve from killing animals to humans. This time I’m writing everything down; I’m giving all my secrets away. The headline reads: Malcolm, the Serial Killer.

            Stacy: My mother has had many husbands. She goes through them like water. After she’s taken all their money she moves on to another one. She chases a dream for her two daughters to live the enchanted life.  Mother always got what she wanted. Everyone praises her for her beauty. I hate her. She cheated on my father and left him with nothing. She moved us away from him and won’t allow him to see us. She’s had 8 husbands and so many boyfriends that I’ve lost count. We, meaning my sister, Ashley and I get ridiculed at school because everyone knows our mother is a gold digging whore. When I turned 15 she introduced us to her new boyfriend, Matthew. She had been only dating him for three months and he was already moving in with us. He was 25 years old while mother was celebrating her 40th birthday. I was fed up with her. I started sleeping with Matt a couple of months after he moved in. I wanted to hurt my mother and teach her a lesson. She needs to feel pain like no other.

Patrick: Father thinks he can do whatever he wants. I’m about to prove him wrong. He thinks he can have a 21 year old girlfriend just because he’s a corporate tycoon. He left mother when I was 12 years old. He didn’t give her a dime. She killed herself that night he told her he was leaving her for a 21 year old. At first, he didn’t want to take care of me; he wanted to ship me off to Russia to live with his mother. His mother made him take responsibility for his actions so he got stuck with me. I started sleeping with his 21 year old girlfriend, Nostalgia, when I was 15. He didn’t treat her well. He cheated on her with strippers and other loose women he encountered on his “business trips.” He would also beat her when he got drunk or when she disagreed with him. The economy downturn hit him hard since he’s an investment banker/broker. He owns his own investment firm and other reality establishments. Everyone at school thinks I’m this happy rich kid but I’m about to give all my secrets away. I plan to kill my father so that I can inherit the family business, a 100 billion dollar inheritance, and marry Nostalgia. The blueprint has already been made; it’s fool proof.