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Chapter Two
0 reviewsBook One. 15 year old Gil Grissom killed his step-father from beating his deaf mother. He exposed the body, cutting his organs and selling them though the black market to get money to pay off the h...
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In a Different Point of View
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Summary: Book One. 15 year old Gil Grissom killed his step-father from beating his deaf mother. He exposed the body, cutting his origins and selling them though the black market to get money to pay off the hospital bills to save his mother from her failing health. Read his dark thoughts that helped lead the man that we knew of what he became...
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Chapter Two
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"Talking"
'thoughts'
"sign language”
-
Gil left his mother's room as he shut the door quietly, not worrying about the fact that his mother couldn't hear anything. For now he would let her sleep.
He walked down the hall way, picking up the broom as he went. He must clean the house, before Andrews comes back from whatever he was doing. If he sees the house filthy, he would give him the same beatings or worse than his mother had today.
'Why does he have to beat up mother? What have she ever do to deserve it?' Gil asked himself, as he picked up half drunken beer bottles and threw them into the recycling bin.
He watched as one bounced out breaking all over the floor. "Shit!" Gil cursed to himself. He kneeled down, picking up the broken pieces of glass. "Ouch."
Blood slowly poured onto the floor from his hand. The cut wasn't deep, nor was it shallow. He got up and walked back down the hallway into the public bathroom. Inside, he looked for band aids, finding none.
Gil sighed in defeat. When was the last time he, his mother or Andrews bought any band aids? It had been years….
Gil shook his head violently. ‘Don’t think that. The past is the past.’ He thought to himself angrily. ‘Father left us. He died because he wanted us to suffer.’ As he thought this he took one of the light bulbs above the mirror and went into his bedroom.
His room was dark, with no lights what so ever. He got up to his bedside lamp and screwed the bathroom’s light bulb in and turned it on. Light dimmed across his room. He sadly looked around his room.
The walls itself was coloured in black paint that wasn’t meant to be used to paint walls. The walls were covered in mold and the ceiling was cracking. During the nights, he could hear mice running across his ceiling. His room wasn’t clean either, for he hardly bothered to clean it (Andrews never order him to clean it) but it was clean enough that it didn’t bother him much.
The only thing that he liked about his room was that his room had plants and interesting science items that luckily Andrews didn’t care for him to have. He had cages of mice that he caught that lived in the house, plants that he never thought would grow without any soil, preserved creatures in jars ranging from snakes to mice, and one gift that was given to him not to long ago: a preserved piglet.
He got on his knees, reached under his bed, pulling out a box. Opening it was clean rags that he uses for cleaning and other means. He wrapped one around his hand, putting back the box for safe keeping.
Then he heard an unexpected bang. Jumping ever so slightly, Gil got up.
‘Andrews can’t be in the house! It is too soon!’ he thought as he closed his bedroom door and ran down the hallway.
As he got in the living room, he saw his mother, walking in with a slight limp, picking up some fallen video tapes that looked like she accidently dropped.
His mother smiled sadly at him.
“Mother what are you doing? You should be resting.”
“Your stepfather will be here any minute. This house needs to be cleaned. After I am done, I will start making dinner.”
“No mother. I will do that. Please go back to bed and rest.”
“No my son. You can’t do all of this by yourself. Please dust that desk over there, while I go fix dinner.”
Gil knew he couldn’t win this augment. Sighing in defeat, he grabbed a dust wrapper and started helping his mother.
An hour later, the front door opened.
Joseph Andrews, step though the door. Gil bit his lip from gagging as the odor of strong alcohol washed though him. Andrews smirked as he saw his wife setting dinner on the table. He sat at the table and started to eat.
Gil looked up and saw his mother moving her hands. “Dinner is ready Gil.” She signed at him. Gil nodded and sat down furthest away from Andrews.
Andrews stared at him, but didn’t say anything. “Mary. Beer.” Andrews signed at Gil’s mother, when she started to sit on the table. Mary nodded and went into the kitchen.
“I see you hardly did anything when I was gone, boy.” Andrew said coldly.
Gil bit his lip. ‘He is just looking for a reason to hit you. Don’t let him get to you.’
“Woman! Where is my beer?”
“Shut the fuck up, bastard!” Gil yelled. Andrews smirked. Gil took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking hands.
“What did you say, boy?” Andrews hissed.
“You heard me.” Gil said muttered, not taking his eyes from his stepfather.
Andrews stood up from the chair, grabbing Gil at the hair, who yelped in both, surprise and pain. Andrews threw him on the hard floor kicking him at the chest. Gil cried out.
In the back ground, behind Andrews, he saw his mother frozen at the spot, tears forming in her eyes.
“Mother!” Gil cried out, not caring that his mother is deaf or not.
“Noonhmm” Gil heard, as the kicking stopped. There was a large thud after that strange sound. Slowly Gil got up from the floor and cried as he saw what was before him.
His mother lay a few feet from him not moving or breathing!
“Pathetic excuse of a woman!” Andrews yelled out, as he kicked the non-breath woman before him.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you—?”
Gil got up; grabbing the closest thing beside him and started attacking his stepfather.
“What the fuc—” Andrews yelled, but was cut short, as he was slammed onto the floor, his step son on top of him with a metal club.
Gil only saw red. He started hitting Andrews on the face as hard as he could. Seeing that Andrews was crying out, trying to get him to stop, but was failing. Gil felt so powerful. The blood that hit him on the face only made him want to hit Andrews more and harder than ever before.
All the pain, all the sorrows that this man brought to him and his mother, came crushing down. This man will pay of what he did! Gil finally stopped after what felt forever. Blood and what looked like Andrews' brains was all over the clean floor. Gil gasps. Not in horror, but in shock at what he had just done.
He had killed him.
(End of Chapter)
Words: 1,257Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. Here look, longer chapter! The experiment worked! Whahahahaha!
And those who are wondering: a bathroom is an American word for “toilet room” “restroom” “lavatory” “washroom”. Or wutever u want to call it. I live in America so yeah. Sue someone else, lol.
Please Review!
I got a New Beta: fakebeebite21
Either to into my Profile or to the Reviews and click on the profile.
--FireChildSlytherin5
-
Summary: Book One. 15 year old Gil Grissom killed his step-father from beating his deaf mother. He exposed the body, cutting his origins and selling them though the black market to get money to pay off the hospital bills to save his mother from her failing health. Read his dark thoughts that helped lead the man that we knew of what he became...
-
Chapter Two
-
"Talking"
'thoughts'
"sign language”
-
Gil left his mother's room as he shut the door quietly, not worrying about the fact that his mother couldn't hear anything. For now he would let her sleep.
He walked down the hall way, picking up the broom as he went. He must clean the house, before Andrews comes back from whatever he was doing. If he sees the house filthy, he would give him the same beatings or worse than his mother had today.
'Why does he have to beat up mother? What have she ever do to deserve it?' Gil asked himself, as he picked up half drunken beer bottles and threw them into the recycling bin.
He watched as one bounced out breaking all over the floor. "Shit!" Gil cursed to himself. He kneeled down, picking up the broken pieces of glass. "Ouch."
Blood slowly poured onto the floor from his hand. The cut wasn't deep, nor was it shallow. He got up and walked back down the hallway into the public bathroom. Inside, he looked for band aids, finding none.
Gil sighed in defeat. When was the last time he, his mother or Andrews bought any band aids? It had been years….
Gil shook his head violently. ‘Don’t think that. The past is the past.’ He thought to himself angrily. ‘Father left us. He died because he wanted us to suffer.’ As he thought this he took one of the light bulbs above the mirror and went into his bedroom.
His room was dark, with no lights what so ever. He got up to his bedside lamp and screwed the bathroom’s light bulb in and turned it on. Light dimmed across his room. He sadly looked around his room.
The walls itself was coloured in black paint that wasn’t meant to be used to paint walls. The walls were covered in mold and the ceiling was cracking. During the nights, he could hear mice running across his ceiling. His room wasn’t clean either, for he hardly bothered to clean it (Andrews never order him to clean it) but it was clean enough that it didn’t bother him much.
The only thing that he liked about his room was that his room had plants and interesting science items that luckily Andrews didn’t care for him to have. He had cages of mice that he caught that lived in the house, plants that he never thought would grow without any soil, preserved creatures in jars ranging from snakes to mice, and one gift that was given to him not to long ago: a preserved piglet.
He got on his knees, reached under his bed, pulling out a box. Opening it was clean rags that he uses for cleaning and other means. He wrapped one around his hand, putting back the box for safe keeping.
Then he heard an unexpected bang. Jumping ever so slightly, Gil got up.
‘Andrews can’t be in the house! It is too soon!’ he thought as he closed his bedroom door and ran down the hallway.
As he got in the living room, he saw his mother, walking in with a slight limp, picking up some fallen video tapes that looked like she accidently dropped.
His mother smiled sadly at him.
“Mother what are you doing? You should be resting.”
“Your stepfather will be here any minute. This house needs to be cleaned. After I am done, I will start making dinner.”
“No mother. I will do that. Please go back to bed and rest.”
“No my son. You can’t do all of this by yourself. Please dust that desk over there, while I go fix dinner.”
Gil knew he couldn’t win this augment. Sighing in defeat, he grabbed a dust wrapper and started helping his mother.
An hour later, the front door opened.
Joseph Andrews, step though the door. Gil bit his lip from gagging as the odor of strong alcohol washed though him. Andrews smirked as he saw his wife setting dinner on the table. He sat at the table and started to eat.
Gil looked up and saw his mother moving her hands. “Dinner is ready Gil.” She signed at him. Gil nodded and sat down furthest away from Andrews.
Andrews stared at him, but didn’t say anything. “Mary. Beer.” Andrews signed at Gil’s mother, when she started to sit on the table. Mary nodded and went into the kitchen.
“I see you hardly did anything when I was gone, boy.” Andrew said coldly.
Gil bit his lip. ‘He is just looking for a reason to hit you. Don’t let him get to you.’
“Woman! Where is my beer?”
“Shut the fuck up, bastard!” Gil yelled. Andrews smirked. Gil took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking hands.
“What did you say, boy?” Andrews hissed.
“You heard me.” Gil said muttered, not taking his eyes from his stepfather.
Andrews stood up from the chair, grabbing Gil at the hair, who yelped in both, surprise and pain. Andrews threw him on the hard floor kicking him at the chest. Gil cried out.
In the back ground, behind Andrews, he saw his mother frozen at the spot, tears forming in her eyes.
“Mother!” Gil cried out, not caring that his mother is deaf or not.
“Noonhmm” Gil heard, as the kicking stopped. There was a large thud after that strange sound. Slowly Gil got up from the floor and cried as he saw what was before him.
His mother lay a few feet from him not moving or breathing!
“Pathetic excuse of a woman!” Andrews yelled out, as he kicked the non-breath woman before him.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you—?”
Gil got up; grabbing the closest thing beside him and started attacking his stepfather.
“What the fuc—” Andrews yelled, but was cut short, as he was slammed onto the floor, his step son on top of him with a metal club.
Gil only saw red. He started hitting Andrews on the face as hard as he could. Seeing that Andrews was crying out, trying to get him to stop, but was failing. Gil felt so powerful. The blood that hit him on the face only made him want to hit Andrews more and harder than ever before.
All the pain, all the sorrows that this man brought to him and his mother, came crushing down. This man will pay of what he did! Gil finally stopped after what felt forever. Blood and what looked like Andrews' brains was all over the clean floor. Gil gasps. Not in horror, but in shock at what he had just done.
He had killed him.
(End of Chapter)
Words: 1,257Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. Here look, longer chapter! The experiment worked! Whahahahaha!
And those who are wondering: a bathroom is an American word for “toilet room” “restroom” “lavatory” “washroom”. Or wutever u want to call it. I live in America so yeah. Sue someone else, lol.
Please Review!
I got a New Beta: fakebeebite21
Either to into my Profile or to the Reviews and click on the profile.
--FireChildSlytherin5
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