Children of broken dreams whose hearts are never mended will avenge for the sweetest revenge.

Yes.

Why do you think I murdered Vivian?

The judge refused to believe in my claims.

That I murdered the infamous Vivian Vander.

I was found at the scene of the crime. I was there. I stood proud and unshaken over her lifeless corpse with my scarlet hands. The same hands I used to stab her with my grandfather's dagger. The one he gave to me, his precious precious granddaughter, to protect myself. I lived in New York-what is not to expect in that city? He used to tell me that I will know where to find the dagger when the time comes. Grandfather never intended anything. He never saw anything coming from me. And neither did the others. Who could have expected that a well-educated young woman who graduated from prestigious and exclusive institutions would do such a thing?

Blood was everywhere. It oozed from her body, the body I oh so enjoyed mutilating. Her blood clung to the walls and crawled to the carpet. I could still hear her anguish cries and I was pleased. After all, giving her a very slow, painful, and vengeful death was what I had been planning all throughout my oppressed years.

The woman with my father was the infamous Vivian Vander. Infamous, at least, in our household. She was the cause for every bruise, scratch, and bleeding in my mother. My father's mistress, a young promiscuous woman, shattered my family's already-unstable harmony when I was just 14. The most terrifying moment in my life, seeing my mother being deceived by this malevolent woman's tricks and lies, haunted and fueled my intense desire to mutilate her.

The hearing was going to start soon. I glanced at my back easily. I was not the type who got all crazy just because I committed a murder. Actually, I think I did everyone a favor. I wiped off a witch from the society. I caught a glimpse of my mother who looked like she was going to faint any time soon. She had been causing a ruckus in the city, too, because of her unexpected return. She was banished from New York after swindling a large amount of money. She would've never returned if it weren't for me.

I felt no guilt for killing the mother of my half-sister. The only guilt I had was for my father. I wish I could just squeeze his hands and tell him everything will be alright. Of course, he will not believe me. He'd stopped believing in me and Nathaniel since Vivian took over his life completely. During the summer after my high school junior year, Vivian moved in my family's house to my horror. Her eyes moved with great deceit and greed that day.

The judge hit the justice hammer once and called for an order in the court.

It's starting.

To win or to lose in the trial is no concern of mine. Let me go to rot in jail. I don't really care. At least, I'm giving my family a little peace. The death of Vivian Vander will not undo the damages she's caused, of course. Whoever has done serious damage must pay. She's done that. I forced her to.

There was my side, the suspect, and her side, benches filled up by her bum family and friends from Chicago. They unceasingly pointed, screamed, and accused me for her death. It was obvious. I did it. I told the judge myself-to Clare Beckies and Nathaniel Beckies' dismay. I knew that the court would have given much credit for my 19-year-old innocence. Telling the truth was different from confessing. Confessing would be feeling sorry for what I'd done. But I was not feeling sorry. Not one bit.

To me, my high school and first two years in college were just times for having my heart broken and seeing my family torn apart. Her unruly manner gave whomever met her a feeling of unease. In parties and family gatherings, I kept a comfortable distance from her. I was ashamed of having to let a crowd know that she was my father's mistress. Which made her my stepmother. Sort of. She was always intimidated whenever I came too near to her. At least she knew of the very least that I would always dislike her. That didn't keep her from trying-and failing. I planned to move out of the house during my third year in college. I was financially-independent enough already. But Nathaniel told me to think twice and think carefully. Our mother was away in some kind of exile. Our concern was whether we should leave the house and give up or stay and be enslaved. We weren't softie kids who'd give up easily. Getting stuck in house lasted longer than I expected.

I apologize. A convict should pay more close attention to her trial instead of relishing memories. As if the judge heard me in my thoughts, he hit the justice hammer again and called for an order in the court. Or probably just my attention. I tried to listen but it bore me to death. The Vanders just kept on pointing their wretched fingers at me. I was impressed. For once in their filthy lives, they were right. But they still looked wrong and stupid. Almost everyone in the courtroom actually thought I was innocent. They might've even believed that dad just forced me to 'confess'. They gave me some sympathy I no longer needed and will no be needing any time soon. I didn't want it either. The pathetic sympathy I longed for was not given during those times I wanted it so badly. I decided to drift back into mind. Not to find some solace. But for some fun.

"Do scream your loudest since it will be your last words!" was the precise farewell I said to her as the dagger glimmered. She looked pathetic. Holding up her little Valerie. Funny. Not very long ago, my greatest nightmare was having a half-brother or sister to be born to this witch. It was not Valerie's fault she was born to a horrible mother. Using her as some human shield in a desperate attempt to be saved. Valerie, though young and stupid, quickly understood what was happening. Even though I didn't like the tyke, I didn't like to see my baby half-sister as a human shield more. Instead of the pity Vivian was expecting, I took the baby from her and tossed her away. At that moment, I didn't care how many bones she'd damage. I wanted to finally end all those years of torment for me and Nathaniel.

The dagger hit her thousands of times. It was countless. Merciless. And brutal of me. I poked her some more but I never hit her heart just yet. I poked her eyes and she screamed. It was unnerving. I slit her throat but never finished it. Hey, at least she no longer saw what I did-what with her eyes rolling away down the stairs, right? I chopped her legs off, her feet, arms, fingers. I had so much fun. I was getting the sweetest revenge the world could give. For the first time in my life, I tasted justice.

The baby, crying after she fell from her mother's lifeless body, seemed unharmed. That was well enough. The scene was intolerable, of course. But I would never wish to undo it. No matter what the future holds for me.

The trial is about to end. The judge sighed and told us of his decision. My mother fell unconscious and Nathaniel panicked from behind me. I didn't want to look. Mother will get over it. If I were her, I would sneak out of New York already while everyone's in chaos. Nathaniel should go away with her this time because she's no longer that young to keep on hiding. All eyes were fixed upon me. I sighed in resignation. My family was horrified to see me accept my sentence to life imprisonment. My grandparents were speechless, and my cousins, aunts, and uncles, Nathaniel, my unconscious mother, and my father.

That was the last time I ever got to see them. The authorities didn't allow any of them to see me. Phone them, if I'm lucky, maybe once in 10 years. Last I heard, my mother and Nathaniel disappeared into the night. They were never seen again. Valerie married a businessman's son when she was just 16. And my dad, who became 'Poor Phil' lost everything. He became an endless wanderer in the street. He kept on blaming himself and muttered words about him being responsible for his beloved's death and his daughter's horrible fate. They said he sounded insane. It was insane of him to talk to himself. He didn't last long. He passed away eventually. I felt sorry for him. Because no matter what happens, he will always be my father.