Roman finally let me go outside, which was great since his apartment building was starting to get extremely boring.



It's been three weeks since we fought those girls, well more like Roman
fought, and then I saved him. He didn't want to risk me being seen and
put to jail, so I was grounded until the police stopped looking.



I didn't even do much in the battle, I don't understand why I'm the one
they're looking for. Roman was the one who started the battle and tried
to kill them, not me. Why should I be a fugitive if I didn't do
anything?



After almost a month of being held inside a crummy old room, I was
finally free. No more awkward small talk with Roman and his associates, I
could do whatever I wanted. Live a somewhat normal life again. People
still think I'm a crazy murderer or something like that, but minus that I
could finally try to be normal.



While I was being held inside Roman's room, he could go anywhere he
wanted. He always claimed I couldn't defend myself and that people would
constantly looking for me, but he was lying, obviously.



I've been outside for more than an hour now, I've walked in several
parks, and I haven't seen anyone looking at me funny or claiming me to
be evil. The good thing about living in the darker parts of Vale was
that no one could really afford buying a television and actually
watching the news. No one was aware of what was happening around the
world.



Sure, there were more Grimm attacks than in the other parts of the city,
but despite the people being unaware, they were pretty strong. Most of
them were academy rejects, people who couldn't pass entrance exams and
had to live the rest of their lives on the streets cause they couldn't
afford anything better.



There were a few happy people too, with money and beautiful families. I
saw a few in the parks I was in, walking with their children, living
their happy lives.



Not everyone living on the shady side of town was miserable and poor.
Some people just wanted a cheaper house or apartment to live in.



I was born to a happy family on a stormy winter evening. I had a caring
father and a very loving mother, they both seemed happy with the way
their daughter turned out, at least at first.



As the years went by I grew up, and my parents noticed there might be
something wrong with me. I often came home from school screaming about
how I wanted to kill every single one of my classmates for bullying me.



At first they thought it was some sort of phase, but in reality it was
just me being me. I don't know how I turned out the way I did, my
parents seemed so normal. I wish I had siblings to compare myself to,
but sadly my parents never had anymore children. Apparently I was a
tough enough load to handle.



One day I came home from school, I was so upset I broke one of our table
lamps. I remember my mother screaming about how it had meant a lot to
her. Then father asked me what was wrong and I told him about the people
bullying me. He said that I should give them a piece of their own
medicine.



Sure, I could've given them an overdose of medicine, but I preferred
stabbing them with sharp objects. So the day after the lamp incident, I
came home and my beautiful pink and brown checkered shirt was all red.
My mother asked me if we had painted a lot that day, then I started
laughing about how she thought it was paint.



Mother started screaming, then father came downstairs to ask what was wrong. He stared at me with shock.



"Father look! I took care of it!", I remember saying as I took out the
bloody kitchen knife from my backpack, "Aren't you proud of me now?", I
held the knife in my hand.



Neither my mother nor father replied. I remember being upset, I had
started running around the house with a knife in my hand screaming,
"Aren't you proud of me now!?". Eventually my parents got scared and
decided to call the police. Little did they know, the phone lines were
being fixed that day, and they wouldn't work. They often broke due to
vandalism, but were fixed pretty soon after the damage.



I found both of my parents huddled inside the kitchen, my mother was
shaking as she held the phone in her hands. Father was next to her,
trying desperately to keep her calmed down.



The rest of what had happened was a blur. My mother was screaming,
father was crying, more blood, I heard sirens, I was being taken away, I
was inside a white room.



I had no idea where I was, but I was there for a long time. I don't
remember how I got out, but suddenly I was in Roman's apartment living
what seemed like a normal life.



A few years ago I'd gone on a search for my family, looking to know what
had happened to them. Sadly no one really knew them. I did find their
address though, it was in the middle of nowhere.



At first I thought they were hiding from me, but then I noticed that it
wasn't in fact in the middle of nowhere. They were in a graveyard. They
were dead. I had killed them.



All these innocent people on the streets, I could kill them all if I
wanted to. No one would necessarily stop me, they would be too afraid
to.







By

Qrow