“Mentally and Physically abused. Forced to kill her own parents. This girl does not deserve a prison sentence. The years of abuse and torture by her own family. This girl deserves a new life. She is only a teenager. She does not deserve the life given to her. And she may have illegally let her parents leave the world but she knew that being only one left in the family she wouldn’t let them suffer for two years till she was of age. My client pleads guilty to the crime of killing her parents but you can see that it was for the good of her parents who deserved much less than what was given to them.”
Three years has passed since that day, it still plays out in my mind every second. I still don’t know why the judge let me go. I killed them. I pulled the plug on my parents at the age of sixteen. And then I was stuck in foster home after foster home. I was completely alone. For three years I have been alone. Nobody wanted to adopt the girl who was broken, the girl that was on the news for killing her own parents. The girl with scars on her body from the years of torture. It took two years for me to somewhat be over everything. The demons will always live on, they will always be in my mind. Therapist after therapist. Doctor after doctor. Putting me on drugs to keep the nightmares away. I passed high school at the top of my grade. School after school offered me scholarships but the moment they found out who I am they turned me down. Now only one college accepting me. Probably the best one for Screenwriting. Sending me all the way across the country to a city I’ve never been before. Allowing me to start over, where nobody will know who I am from looking at my face. I will be able to blend into the chaos of New York City. I will be able to start again. I stopped taking the drugs a year ago, from that day I’ve been able to live. Allow myself to see the world not drugged up so I wouldn’t tell anyone what my parents did to me. They put me on drugs to stop me from telling the cops. Kept me so high that I didn’t know what my first name was. Then when they died I stopped and the doctors put me on sleeping pills so the nightmares would stop. But by that time I was already to addicted to pills that I became an addict and I stopped caring. Then one day I woke up and told myself that I needed to stop. I would not allow myself to become my parents. The people who tortured me for years. It started when my sister and brother ran away leaving me with the monsters that haunted me daily. I grew a hatred for them, telling myself that they hated me that they only cared for themselves. When I was on the news and the truth came out about my parents, my brother and sister came out of hiding. I couldn’t even recognize them. I thought seeing the again would make me happier but when I saw their faces I was filled with so much anger that I snapped. I screamed, I hit, I cried. The doctors said I wasn’t allowed to live with them even though they wanted me to, they said it would be unsafe for my mental health. Then the day I turned eighteen they came to me asking if I would live with them. That’s when I told them I was moving to New York, to follow my dreams. So now I Violet Tate board a plane to New York my brother and sister waving to me, I don’t look back at them because to be honest If they only knew the demons I hide they wouldn’t be smiling.
“You disgrace of a son. Can’t you do anything right? You’re just like your whore of a mother! No good for anything and anyone. I can’t believe you are my son.”
It’s been five years since that day, the day my father caught my mother cheating on him with his best friend and business partner. I always knew something was up with her. How distant she was from me. How she looked at me like I wasn’t even her son anymore. After that day my mother, my younger brother Clay and I all packed up our things and we left. We moved in with a man I barely knew. Into a house that I barely knew. With a family I didn’t know. The scandal was posted on every newspaper and every website, and being their children Clay and I were put directly in the middle of everything. All eyes were on us to see our reactions, I had no idea what to do. I was just a young teen at the time. All eyes were on me and I took that to my advantage. All my outings with girls were posted on every magazine, newspaper, and website. My drinking habits were on the front page. My mom sent me away to boarding schools while my brother Clay had to go through the torment of my mother’s drinking. My stepsister just stayed in the background. No one payed attention to her. No newspaper cared for her story. No website had her face on it. When my stepfather died that’s when my mother lost it. The news was on us once again, and I decided that I had to be the cocky play boy because to be honest I loved the attention that wasn’t given to me at home. Every girl wanted to be with me and I let them because they filled a hole in my chest. Then I decided I wanted to be a writer, write down the real story of my parents the scandal the story of her children. So my mother bought my scholarship to one of the best writing colleges on the east coast. She wanted me close to home so she could hide my wrong actives and my times in the bars. The amount of girls I brought home. So New York City it is, mother only let me live five miles away from her apartment in SoHo while I live in Tribeca. It was the farthest I could go away from her without feeling bad. I love my mother. She is everything to me, even through her addiction to liquor and treating Clay like a doll. She is still our mother, she has done everything in her power to keep us out of trouble. I know it’s kind of late for a twenty year old to be starting college but I just recently decided that I wanted to be a writer. It’s not like it matter that much because I will be taking over the family business as the oldest. My father, my real father said that he never wanted me in the family business but my stepfather loved me. He treated me like his own son. I loved him like a father but he also could never fill the hole in my chest that was stolen from me from the years of being ignored. That’s why I get the attention of the media, the girls, anyone. My father’s trained me to be a businessman. So now I Kai Laverett pack my last box putting it into the back of my car smiling back at my mother who waves goodbye. If she only knew what I hide behind my smile.