Mom, Run! I’m a Killer!

As the bus jolted its way out of the mountains, I stared out the window, taking in every single detail.

This was my very first time laying eyes on the world beyond those peaks.

Beside me, my dad began his endless, grating drone.

"Scrappy, you need to thank your stars I let you live," he muttered. "Anyone else would've shoved a useless mouth like you down a coal shaft years ago. I'm a saint for taking you to New York to wring child support out of that mom who dumped you."

I stared down at my lap, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the hem of my faded shirt.

I knew the truth. Dad didn't care about me; he just saw me as a golden ticket.

I had overheard him boasting to one of the neighbors over cheap whiskey in our living room just a few weeks back.

"Once Scrappy's rich mom pops back into the picture, I'm squeezing at least a million bucks out of her. Not a penny less! Once I get that cash, I'll pay off my gambling debts, find a quiet girl from the boonies for my boy and lock her up in the house to pump out grandkids. Keep the family line going!

“Don't worry, the kid's been raised under my thumb. He does all the heavy chores and follows orders like a good little dog."

I stole a glance at my dad, who had finally drifted off to sleep, and let out a bitter, silent laugh.

He didn't know me at all.

I was never obedient.

My real education hadn't come from him, but from the broken, traumatized woman living next door, the one who spent her days staring at nothing and laughing to herself.

The rest of the town dismissed her as insane.

I knew better.

Whenever no one was watching, she would hunt down discarded books and secretly pass them to me. She taught me how to read, how to spell, and what it actually meant to be a decent human being.

She promised me that out beyond the ridge, there were laws, and there was justice. She told me a real man shouldn’t grow up to be a monster who beat women.

Last winter, she begged me to help her escape.

I stole my dad's sleeping pills and laced the meat with them to knock out the guard dog watching her.

She still didn't make it past those endless, suffocating ridges.

The day they dragged her back, they beat her to death right on the dirt yard. Her blood soaked deep into the frozen earth.

Thinking back, only two people had ever made it out of that town alive: me, and my mom.

So many women were trapped in that hellhole. Besides the woman living next door, there was Aunt Rachel, who was forced to sleep in the barn. She was the one who taught me how to put on a mask to survive among those predators.

She used to stroke my hair, her eyes filled with raw pity.

"Scrappy, you're smart. You catch on fast. Don't you ever turn into your father."

It was only over the last few days that I realized where that intelligence came from. My mom was brilliant, and I had inherited her brain.

I turned my head to look at my dad again. His mouth hung open as he snored, his ugly face was slack and grotesque.

The dark urge surged up in my chest all over again.

It was the sudden, violent temptation to pull the packet of rat poison out of my backpack and force it straight down his throat.

Just a pinch.

That was all it would take to make him foam at the mouth and convulse to death, just like the huge black rat that tried to steal grain behind our yard.

My hand reached deep into my backpack until my fingertips brushed the cold paper wrapping.

In the end, I pulled my hand back.

Not out of fear.

I just needed to see my mom one last time.

Men like my dad and me, creatures spawned from the gutter, belonged in hell.

However, that beautiful girl who had been held captive in our holler a few days ago deserved to live.

I had to save her.

The journey stretched on for hours until the bus finally ground to a halt at the city terminal.

Dad jolted awake, rubbing his crusty eyes, and shoved me out toward the platform.

He took in the bustling crowd and neon glow surrounding us, then suddenly turned to me with a crooked grin.

"Well, Scrappy, look at all these flashy lights and big city sights. What do you think?"