"Took you long enough" Mr. Beau scoffed.
"I'm sorry" I replied.
"How are you liking things so far?" He asked in a monotone voice.
I'm sorry, what? I mean after murdering my mother in front of my very eyes the day before my birthday, changing my name and gas lighting my memories and beliefs, you should know the answer.
"It's okay" I replied.
"If I'm not mistaken, it's your birthday tomorrow. Is there anything you want?"
"Anything?" I repeated.
"Mhm, anything." He answered.
"Then… can you bring back my mother?" I asked.
Deafening silence filled the room as he looked at me with both pity and amusement. "Child, if I could, this wouldn't have happened."
"So it's a no?" I asked disheartened.
"Unfortunately yes. Is there any other thing you want?" He asked again.
"No." I replied.
"Tell me, do you still resent me?" He asked.
"Isn't it evident?" I replied.
"I believe you were asked a yes or no question." He then scorned.
"Well that's what YOU believe." I emphasized.
"I see you still are bitter but I don't see that as an excuse for you to be rude." He said as he looked daggers. "You do know I can kill you at this very moment right? Just like how I did to your mother." He added.
"I'd like to see you try." I retaliated.
"You're trembling." He emphasized looking at me from head to toe.
"You seem to be 'all bark no bite'. The weaker you are the louder you bark." He said as he approached me closer. "You really are just like your mother." He muttered.
"So are you gonna kill me too? Are you gonna shoot me too and watch me bleed until I die? Tell me mister, what are you gonna do?"
"I don't know yet but you're pretty bold. I like that." He professed.
"Well I don't. You're older than my mother." I pointed out.
"How would you know that?" He asked.
"You just look old." I replied honestly.
"That's harsh." He chuckled.
"I'm not interested in you kid, not that way." He said as if he read my mind. "Say, have you ever thought of learning how to use a gun?" He then asked.
"Learning how to use one basically means learning how to kill." I replied.
"So? Are you interested?" He asked again.
"I don't think so." I answered.
"Why?" He then asked.
"It's the weapon that killed my mother. Although it would be a good lesson, it would mean getting my hands dirty wouldn't it?" I replied. "My mother would never want that for me. No matter how much I despise your whole being and existence, my morals still stand higher than that."
"I didn't know you also liked playing as a saint." He said in satire.
"Not really. Maybe I just think it's not worth it. You're not worth it to be exact. Death would only bring you peace and end to all your sufferings or problems that lie underneath. I'd like to watch you live." I said numb from all the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "I hope you live the longest life ever imaginable. The longest possible torment anyone could imagine."