Chapter One – Everyone's A Little Fucked Up.

My eyes ran over my father's dead body slowly in fury taking in that this was actually real. That the violent gashes in his stomach that was still oozing out warm blood was real. That the blood trickling out of his mouth and trailing down his chin was real. That his hands that were once warm and had been wrapped around me since the day I was born, were now cold and hard. Kind of like me and my brother on the inside. His eyelids were closed over the stunning green eyes that he shared with me never to open again. He was dead. The man who had protected me and saved my life from before I was even born was fucking dead.

I turned back around releasing my hands from him, letting them lifelessly drop to his sides as he lay limp in a chair, and met the eyes of my no good dick head younger brother Imagine, who was responsible for this incident. Of course Imagine was responsible for this. Not just because he was fucking messed up. No, everyone's a little fucked up. Not just because Daddy would beat his sorry little ass from time to time, and never lay a finger on me. No, this was because he knew that daddy was the one thing in the world that I actually gave a damn about. He knew how much I loved daddy and how daddy loved me. He was just doing this to toy with me. A beginning of a game for us is what this is. He had started it, and now it was time to play.

My eyes glared at his as he stood leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his shirt covered in my daddy's blood, blood splatters, blood streaked across his face, some drying on the ends of his dark hair, with not even a smirk on his fucking face. He didn't need a smirk, his eyes said it all. They always did because the little dip shit was never one to express his emotions all too well. That blood didn't fucking belong to him. No that blood was not his blood. I should fucking carve off every inch of his skin that is stained with my daddy's blood and return it to him. I am sure my daddy would appreciate it.

"You fucking bastard, you just couldn't stand it could you? Someone on this earth, no falling for your stupid little fucking fake 'love me' shit" I spat at him as I slowly moved towards him until I was in front of his, though I was fourteen and he was thirteen, Image sure did look a lot older them I am. Size didn't matter though. No not at this point, I have never been scared of him, and I never will be.

He just stared down at me, his eyes screaming amusement and laughter, which always pisses me the fuck off. I just smirked and leaned up a bit, as close to his face as I could get, and whispered " Well' I'm also someone who isn't and has never fallen for your shit, and what are you going to do about that?" I looked at him, a smile on my face as he just stared back into my eyes, digging into them with all that coldness, all that hatred that was built up behind them. His eyes moved from mine to my father's dead body behind me and then back to me.

"That makes the game far too easy for me doesn't it daddy's girl? Only having one more left" he said in such a clam and collected manner.

I glared at him now and slapped him as hard as I could my hand connecting to his cheek, causing his head to turn and a sting in my hand. "Fuck you" I said cold and venomously as I turned back around and walked back over to my father's corpse. I leaned down pushing a few of his hairs out of the way, leaving his forehead bare with the stains of blood on it. I kissed it, my lips connecting with his cold skin. I ran my hand across his face one last time before I went to play. "Love you daddy" I whispered before I stormed out of the room, a smirk on Imagine's face as I did. I walked across the tiny hallways and into the living room.

My eyes saw what I expected them to see. My bitch of a mother holding her son, my youngest brother Grey, in her lap as she read him a story in a recliner. Now anyone who would walk in on this would think about how good a mother she is. But that would be judging a book by its fucking cover. Mother had always loved her two boys, me though I ruined her life, I ruined her life. I ruined her career, I ruined just about everything for her due to the fact that she was too lazy to use a condom. But, it's a good think I was born. Because I was meant to be here to fucking take her out. For fourteen years I have wanted nothing more than just rip her limb from limb, burn her, cut her, beat her, kick her, spit at her, everything, For fourteen years I have put up with her fucking beatings. The only thing holding me back was daddy, but now it didn't matter anymore.

She continued to read as I walked into Imagine's room and smirked walking over to the piano that mother had bought him, even though daddy couldn't afford it. I traced my finger over the keys, listening as they went from high to low, and then lifting my finger up once that last key was hit. Then I started pounding on the piano as hard as I could, making all that noise and just laughing. Oh how many times I have gotten beat for touching Imagine's fucking piano. Too many. I walked around to the side of it and lifted up the back see the chords that were connected to the keys. I smirked as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife, flicking it open, and cutting of the piano cords out. The tiniest cord. Once I finally got it I returned the knife to my pocket and let the piano slam shut.

I walked slowly out of Imagine's room, and back into the leaving room, the same scene of mom reading to the almost asleep Grey was continuing. She ignored me as I walked by; she always ignored me when it came to talking care of her boys. Which I didn't mind one bit. If the fucking bitch wants to act like I don't exist, that is perfectly fine with me, but one thing she won't do is fucking touch me ever again. Not a damn finger will ever touch me again, and it's all thanks to Imagine starting the game. I began whistling until I was directly behind her, watching the back of her greasy haired head, and her pudgy fingers hold the book, and how Grey's eyes were almost completely shut.

I took the chord one end in each of my hands, and slung it over her neck so fast that I didn't even have time to think. I pulled the chord more towards me, making it break into her skin as he hands kept pulled at mine. Her fingernails prying into my skin as she shook her whole body trying to break free. But she couldn't, she was all mine, and this time it was her turn. I smirked as I pulled the chord tighter blood falling form her neck to the book and onto Grey. Grey's screams and cries filled my fucking ears and the adrenaline that I was feeling was indescribable. It was a feeling that I have loved from time to time. Something about causing someone pain, let alone ending someone's life. It's like you own them, you can do whatever you like with them, you were controlling their life at the moment in time, and it is the best feeling in the world.

My mother's pries began to get weaker, and my struggled to keep the chord tight around her weren't becoming such a hassle anymore. Grey's little hands were on my arms, tugging at them, "Stop it Issy! Stop it!" Grey's squeaky voice screamed at me, tears rolling down his cheeks. The boy was only four, but watching your mother die right before your eyes must be pretty traumatizing. To me, it's the most beautiful thing in the world.