I walk through the old gray dark shallow hallway as the street lights flicker at intervals. There is something about the light that freaks me out. The ten or more of them shine out but each time I get under one it trips off.

I glance up at them. Perhaps their wires are faulty but that will be so insane to think because they never are.

I guess even the traffic lights are afraid of me. Not like I'm evil but then that's what people think of me as. "It's quite surprising and at the same time interesting how lights think I'm evil too now." I laugh even though it isn't supposed to be funny. But then again it is.

A sudden scream echoes afar off— from a building meters away from me.

It's like the scream of a man and a woman in a heated argument. But that of the woman is more. The shattering of things I can't affirm follows and then the woman starts sobbing while the man starts screaming as if he is barking at a kid.

A part of me wants to go see what might be making them quarrel at this time of the night but then I don't because I don't need to. And because I've gotten so used to them. The same thing that makes me keep late nights.

Yes, those are my parents. I don't think of them as one though because they are more of fighters than lovers.

At times my mind draws wide on why they married since they knew they ain't compatible with each other.

"I'll kill you and I'll tell the cops that it was an accident!"

"What then are you waiting for? Go ahead asshole! You need a gun? Check the drawer! I fucking regret marrying you!"

"Then leave! Leave and do well to take your witch of a daughter with you! I don't ever want to see you both!"

"You are so sick in the brain for calling our daughter a witch you asshole!"

A terrifying scream follows her last words and gets accompanied by the smashing of a body against the wall, wardrobe, door, everywhere.

I cover my ears trying my best to get their actions out of my head but it feels like I'm stuck. One wouldn't believe that I'm several feet away from the house but yet I can hear their clamors. Weird right? Yea, I know.

I've heard that a lot.

Dad thinks me a witch because I can hear things normal people can't hear and also see things normal people can't see.

He often thinks I'm even more than a witch, perhaps an ancient Goddess but then only mum believes that it's just a coincidence.

Dad often refers to me as a bastard. He believes that I can never be his child. Not like I like the fact that I am anyway.

If there's anyone I despise so much right now that will be him. He's everything a villain can be in a book; manwhore, wicked, heartless, brutal, name it.

He's just all the bad things one can be.

It often makes me wonder how mum got to meet someone like him to the extent of marrying him. Or could it be that she did it for money? But then mum is the manager of an international bank. She makes so much money. So it can't be that.

I've so many times advised her to divorce him but each time I say that she looks me in the eyes and says. "Give it time sweetie. Your dad is just going through a hard time. He will be fine soon and once that happens trust me everything will come back to normal. I can't leave your dad. I love him so much and I know he loves me too. We will be fine. Just give us time. I'm sorry that you have to see all this by the way. Marriages have their ups and downs."

I feel so irritated each time she babbles those unsensible words that I've been hearing since I was five and still hear now that I'm over eighteen. It shouldn't be surprising that I don't know my exact birth date. I just don't have the time to keep counts on such affairs and also forgive my manners but I wish I could say to her face that she's just so senseless.

A jabbing disturbing scream beams and enters my ears going straight to my eardrums and that makes me shiver.

I drag myself up from the ground and begin walking toward the godforsaken house. "Hey, pretty damsel. Are you lost?" A voice mutters behind me.

I cringe and the taste of acid creeps into my tongue. Yea, that's what hating a man you think would have been your role model causes. It makes you hate everyone else of the same gender. Doesn't matter if they caused it or not. They all are just a bunch of ingrates.

I hate them!

I stare at him from head to toe not knowing why I even did that and continue walking.

Normally, I just move on without looking. Trust me, I've experienced this kind of thing so many times. So gross! They are all just controlled mostly by the stick in between their legs.

Maybe my mood right now has a cause for that anyway. I don't really give a damn about how he looks.

"Hey, I'm talking to you! I could help if you are lost! A night in my room wouldn't be so bad! I'll make you feel so special, touch you places that you've never been touched and make you scream my name!" He keeps trotting after me while spilling the jargon he calls words.

Such pissy pick-up lines. That's all they know. Not surprised that's all he could think about immediately he set his eyes on me.

That's like I said earlier the stick in between his legs in control. So irritating. Eww!

I want to turn and scream at him right now to leave me the hell alone because his words are almost making me puke but then I'm a reserved soul. I speak more in my head than physically. I actually counted the words I've spoken since I was five yesterday and even though it seems impossible to do I did and surprisingly it isn't up to a hundred words.

He keeps following me but hisses and scurries off when I guess he saw that I wasn't in for his bullshit. Guys are just so irritating and all I want to do each time I see one is puke!

I'm thankful to my mum that she didn't give birth to a male child. Well, that is probably a lie because mum did give birth to a male child but I killed him. Yes, you heard me right. I killed him with my bare hands while we were playing years ago. On that faithful day, we were out on the field playing when kid bro said that he wanted us to play a game of push and pull.

It's a game where one sits on a moving kind of iron that is connected by chains on both sides and the other keeps pushing the person back and forth.

Don't blame me for not knowing the name but I think they call it swing or something. I don't know and I don't even care to know.

I don't pay attention to those kinda things because they don't interest me. Hearing kid bro suggest that made me smile.

"You love it, don't you?" He had asked that day. I let him have the thoughts because there was no how I was going to explain to him that I'm happy because my plan to kill him will come to fulfillment once he sets his ass on that iron.

Yes, just as I desired, I killed him that noon. I helped him sit on the iron and after three smooth pushes and pulls, I raised the iron so high, pushed it, and pulled his hands out of the chains.

He landed so hard on the ground and broke his neck at that instant. I didn't move, I didn't cry, I didn't feel any emotion, I just stood there staring at his breathless body till mum and my so-called dad came running to the scene while screaming for help.