Years.

*5 years before.*

"Damn, my leg's bleeding again," I thought, there were sharp shards of glass embedded in my leg, and laying around me. My mother was standing above me. "She's drunk again," I realized, clutching my bleeding leg, the blood spilled onto the white tile floor. 

"Worthless bastard!" my mother yelled, venom seeping from her words, as she said this she threw yet another empty bottle of beer at me. *CRASH!* It slammed into the wall, shattering on impact. Unfortunately, shards of it landed on my leg yet again, making it bleed more heavily than before.

"It's just more scars," I reminded myself, there was no use crying over it. "It hurts, FIGHT! It hurts so bad, FIGHT DAMMIT! I wanna die, DON'T DIE HERE!" I said in my head, my brain was begging me to fight, to hang onto the few strands of life left in me. The world spun around me regardless of my thoughts, however.

"Its…So cold…" I muttered as the darkness enveloped me. "Die b*tch," my mother whispered in my ear. By then my vision was pure black, and I couldn't fight to stay awake anymore. *Thud.*

Then I awoke in a bright white room. "So thirsty," I muttered through crusted lips. There was a man in a white coat next to me, with a red cross patch, stitched to his breast pocket. "No problem buddy, let's get some water in you," he responded in a kind light-hearted voice. It was at that exact moment my ability to read faces and eyes first materialized. 

I could tell from his eyes that he was sincere and kind. "Ah, it hurts," I thought, giving in to the spinning world as I passed out again. A bad nightmare woke me up, although I couldn't remember what it was about. "Wake up," I heard a familiar voice whisper from beside me. 

It was my dad, he had a thick coat of red on his hands. "Are you okay?" I asked worried, his eyes were filled with unreleased tears, and his face was scratched up badly, bleeding heavily in some places. Noticing that my mother was nowhere to be found, I knew exactly what he had done.

Suddenly my life improved drastically, I knew why, but my father didn't have to know that I knew. I could eat without worry, I could sleep in peace without being awoken by screaming, but best of all injuries stopped appearing on my body, for once my scars stopped coming in unrelentlessly. My mother was gone, completely gone. I was finally free.

We went to parks, we ate out, we laughed, we lived, and we loved. Life was for the first time great. Dad had even met someone nice, and they quickly fell in love, eventually getting married a while later. Everything was perfect, we were a happy family. I forgot he had killed my mother soon enough, but he, unfortunately, never did. 

*1 year later.*

"I'm turning myself in for the murder of my ex-wife Francine," my dad told the detective in charge of my mother's disappearance case. At that moment, that single damn moment, my entire happy life was ripped away from me. My happiness was burnt to a crisp as I saw him taken away from me. All the things I loved, all the moments we had, were stripped away from me in the blink of an eye. I was thrust back into hell.

Soon enough, I was bouncing around the foster care system. Back and forth, from house to house, took its toll on me. Until I met the shitty family I was stuck with for years on end. I ran away time and time again, yet I was forced back to them. Over and over.

Yet no matter what I did, I was forced to stay with them, I even called Child Protective Services, and nothing fucking changed! They deemed him a worthy parent! They ignored everything.

Those useless bastards let my life turn to shit! But it didn't matter if nothing changed with CPS, because I changed. By the time I was 14 my upper body was covered in deep scars. I showed my scars to them, and they did nothing.

That's probably exactly why I pitied Crovera, she reminded me of myself. The difference between us, however, was she gave in, and I on the other hand never did. I found murder too gruesome, too inhumane, it was something I could never do. No matter how broken I was, I refused to give in to my thoughts. We were two sides of the same coin.

*Where I left off.*

As per usual, I had nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to. So my legs carried me to the one place that nobody would expect me to be, the police station. Well, I shouldn't lie about why I went there, the truth is that I went there to see Crovera. At least in the station, we were safe, or so I thought. 

*CRASH! SLAM! THUD! CLANG!* I walked into the station to witness an officer attempt to grab Crovera's chest, but she kicked him in the face and handcuffed him to the cell. *WHAM! WHAM! SMACK!* I stood there for maybe two seconds, and he was half beaten to death. I didn't attempt to stop her, he deserved it all.

Luckily she was perfectly fine. Her eyes reflected pure unadulterated rage, directed toward the officer. *BAM! BANG!* She slammed his head into the iron bars of the cell twice, letting his head fall limp. At that exact moment watching it all unfold I understood, that everyone in this town was corrupt. No matter how it used to be, nobody was sincere. Everyone was our enemy.

I truly couldn't care less what she did to the guard, but I avoided her gaze and line of sight. Mainly by crawling on the floor. I made sure to be extra careful to avoid the camera as well. With the newly made plan, I only had one shot at this, I couldn't afford to fail. Whether she knew it or not, her future depended on making sure I didn't screw up.

Very carefully, I entered an office that said, "Cheif Malcolm." It was a small office with many light-brown shelves, and the blue walls were a nice change from the gray, it also had a black coat hanger which was pretty difficult to see.

The chief, on his sky-blue couch, lay there in front of me, sound asleep. Deciding it was safe enough, I stood up and started silently shuffling through his desk drawers and shelves. I needed the cell key no matter what.

"Careful, careful, careful," I thought worriedly, silently repeating it to myself. I spent a good hour or so sifting through all his cabinets and storage, yet I didn't find the keys. That was until I caught a shiny glimmer in the corner of my eye on the chief's belt.