1 1- Murder



Sunday,

July 25, 2021,

Hoarshthern.

Asher

I recall vividly the first time I killed a man like it was just moments ago. I was fifteen, about to be sixteen in the two hours that would follow. Now I'm not going to feed you some bullshit story about the fact that it was unintentional.

No.

I knew what I was doing when I left a huge hole in man's chest as he heaved, gasping furiously for air while the light in his eyes died slowly. I had watched him beg for mercy. I had heartlessly stared on when unending tears flowed down his agonized face as he writhed in pain, his entire manly frame shaking violently as blood spluttered from him even as he continued to battle and grasp, undoubtedly praying to get even the littlest chance of survival.

By no means would the other three men testify in agreement to the fact that I was acting out of self-defense by assassinating them in their own separate homes.

Fast forward to the morning after, of course everything, everyone and everywhere looked striking as it was always meant to be-or meant to appear to the clueless populace. The birds were singing though all I heard was the grief-stricken sounds of mourning. The trees were their usual bright gorgeous colours meanwhile I only saw dead trunks and roots, decayed and fallen leaves scattered on the grounds which crunched when I walked on them. The sky was also its usual unearthly golden wonder.

Pfft, as they always say, when I glanced up, I saw red. Of course no one saw these things. Maybe I only saw the negative sides of everything because I found what I shouldn't have learnt, what I shouldn't have heard, what shouldn't have cost my father his life and who I should've never crossed paths with. It could maybe be the fact that I was tied up and kneeling in front of a murderous crowd asking for my head as they yelled and spat in my direction, holding weapons morphed from distinctive kinds of metal.

From my perception, I honestly could care less about the crowd. Only one person mattered to me. My mother. I remember the way people had cursed at her, called her a shame for birthing me, dragged her clothes and tore them to shreds so she was almost naked. They had demanded she be punished alongside with me. I remember the continuous tears that had streamed and meandered down her beautiful face as she clamoured, wanting to be close to me, wanting to hold me in case it was for the last time. My mother hadn't cared about herself, she'd cared only about me. She hadn't even dodged the objects flying in her direction if the lump on her forehead and the scratches on her face was any proof of that. Nonetheless, I can guarantee she was still the most blindly striking person in the universe even as the veins on her neck stood out when she shrieked my name endlessly while being held back by my sister.

I recall the all too familiar oceanic eyes from the girl standing behind my mother as she stood there in a brown oversized and worn out tunic with a headscarf covering the most of her hair. Unlike the crowd, she was neither saying a word nor attacking my mother. But that didn't matter. Because she was just as guilty as the men I'd killed. She was just as evil and judgemental as they all were. And she was just as dangerous and toxic.

I remember the pitiful look Genixsys, who held the decree, had given me before proceeding to read the law aloud. I certainly recollect the crowd chanting 'death, death, death' as he went on.

I remember the particularly psychotic bastard, the king, nodding his head in agreement to the crowd. I remember he had raised a hand, putting an end to their protests, claiming I was a minor and deciding to let me choose between two capital punishments for deliberate multiple murder that had never happened in Hoarshthern for the last two decades.

I had taken a look at my mother when a six decade slavery to the kingdom was mentioned. She'd nodded as more tears streamed down her face. Then I had glanced at the king and when he gave me a brief nod with an unfamiliar eccentric look in his eyes, I knew what the better choice was going to be for the both of us. The two options I was given would lead to my death, even if one was way quicker but more painful than the other.

As I gave my mother and sister one last look, I realized something. The biggest fucking liars in the universe are those who say they have got nothing to lose.

Please do leave a comment or vote😊

Thank you💙

Love, Underratxd_