Prologue

I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't a normal child. I saw more, understood more, thought more, but I was still a child.

For as long as I can remember my Father always looked at me differently then other kids Dads look at them. He would smile and tell me he loved me and he never hit me or tried anything in appropriate but it was still different. It was like he was waiting for some shoe to drop.

I wanted to know why so I went looking. In his files, on the library computer at school, in his phone and..... I found it, but I wish I hadn't. My mother wasn't a good person, she was an assassin and a darn good one too. The police knew it was her but couldn't prove it until they convince my father to help them. They were almost finished building their case went one day. Mom didn't come back from a job.

She had been given bad information on a target and it got her killed. Dad didn't hold a funeral or bury her. He hated her. The police weren't able to prove that her money was obtained illegally so they couldn't take it. Apparently she left it all to me to have when I turned 18 or was legally emancipated. I guess she knew Dad didn't love her anymore.

They called her a sociopath, serial killer and I guess as her daughter that made me one too. Dad had to move, now that the police got what they wanted from him they decided to ignore all the people that came to him demanding money or the ones that tried to beat him to death. They didn't speak up for him when he got fired from his job just because he was married to Mom. His cooperation wasn't included in any report, anywhere.

Once I knew all this I was foolishly relieved. I thought Dad was just worried I would be sick like Mom. If I just made sure to be thoughtful, behaved, perfect, then everything would be ok. What I didn't understand yet was that perfect wasn't possible.... but I would learn and the lesson would leave deep lasting scars for the rest of my life.

It happened when I was 14. Puberty was in full swing for me and I was struggling as I realized how unfair it was that I had done everything right but Dad still watched me the same way he always has. My head was hurting and I was incredibly stressed. After getting some headache medicine from the nurse I sat down in class waiting for the teacher to come in.

The other students were hanging out in the hallway but this one kid came in and sat right next me was crying with these high-pitched squeaks. My classmates in the hallway were making too much noise to hear him.

My head hurt so much right then because the medicine hadn't had time to work and I snapped. I yelled at him to take his problem somewhere else, what I didn't know was that his mother had just passed away the night before. That's where everything went wrong.

When I found out of course I explained myself and apologized to him but that wasn't enough for his father, who had just lost his wife and was looking for someone to take his grief and anger out on. He demanded my father come to the school.

When my Father hear what happened. He look me right in the eye. His stare was icey, devoid of the little warmth I use to see from time to time when he would remember that I'm his daughter too. It was like this was the moment he was waiting for, the other shoe that was waiting, just waiting to be dropped.

He didn't wait to listen to an explaination from me or even the nurse who had come to speak for me. I will never forget what he said right then.

"I'm sorry. She's obviously sick beyond what I can handle. She won't hurt anyone else. I'll make sure of it."

His word pursed straight into my mind and ripped out my heart as I struggled to breathe. While I was in a daze he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of school and we got into he car. By the time I came back to myself we were outside a large white building.