The Kids Aren't Alright

✰ Chapter Eighteen ✰

TW: religious trauma, Mentions of blood and depressing/abusive themes. I put it just in case but if you guys are triggered by this kind of stuff, I just want to say that this book will have things here to there. Also I watch too much criminal minds oop- reid, jj, and emily are hot.

A Killer's POV 

"Your grades are just horrible darling, I thought we discussed this with your father.." Mother held her head, sitting down on the rocking chair with a glass of her special wine in one hand.

"My grades are all A's, Mother." I said, looking into her cold eyes.

She held her head high to face me. She got up from her chair and set her wine down on the coffee table. Walking over to me with grace, the clicking sound of her heels against the hardwood floors is a sound I'll never forget. "Listen here, you little shit." she held my face. "I've worked long and hard to teach you how to master perfection. Your grades may be A's but they aren't perfect, and to be apart of this family everything needs to be perfect. Until you get actual good grades, your privilege to call me mother has been revoked. You will address me as ma'am or Miss, understood?" she harshly let go of my face, going back to sit in the chair.

"Understood, Moth-Ma'am." I hesitated. Her presence was always cold, putting on act for her friends and family that she was this loving mother. I knew the truth. She simply couldn't handle the thought of being imperfect, she didn't have to think about it. She was never perfect to begin with, a mistake brought into this world by misuse of a condom.

She lightly shook the glass, making the wine inside swirl around the glass. "I always liked your sister, more." she took a sip, smacking her mouth to endure the after taste. "She has more potential than you could ever dream of. She's perfect, a gift from God himself." she said, holding the cross pedant on her necklace.

I said nothing, sitting there like the quiet child I was. Waiting for a command as if I was a house pet. Her words, her actions, everything she's done has brought me nothing but pain. Continuing life with a rich, tasteful act but sobbing quietly in the shower so the water could wash away my tears was my life now.

"What medication have you been taking lately?" The sound of his voice brought me back to reality, back from a distant memory that still haunts me today.

"The usual. They do nothing yet I still have to take them? Bullshit."

He took off his glasses and leaned over his clipboard. "These are new meds, they are special and your mother insisted that we had you on them pronto. And watch your language. I may be a therapist, but the standards of the church still apply here."

"What did Jesus die for if we weren't supposed to sin a little, am I right?" I laughed, his face stayed neutral. "It's funny." I smirked.

"What's funny?"

"It's funny what twenty-three years of building a career as a therapist and working with mentally ill patients can end with a stroke of a pen. My pen." 

He gulped, his eyes widened in fear. The fear of losing his job brought chills down his spine, he worked so hard for it and now he feels my pain. It felt great to be in power, not only physically but mentally. He put his head down for a minute, looking at his clipboard and then looking back up to meet my eyes. "How are things with your mother?" his voice a little shaky from my words.

"You do remember our last session, what I've told you about my mother being deeply obsessed over my sister? I guess mother doesn't have a daughter to idolize anymore, since she's gone. She's been gone and I have the pleasure of watching mother break down. I'm not crazy though It is a guilty pleasure of mine."