‼️TW‼️
- Death/killing
- Blood

Rowan Marino

I sit at my desk looking over some papers. The room is too quiet. Too still.
But then the door flings open.
It's my father of course. He never knocks.

The smell of his cologne, too sharp and too familiar, lingers in the air as he steps inside.
He takes a seat across from me. He slides a paper across the desk. A contract.
The one he promised me the day I get married.
I get the power. I'll be the boss from now on.

"You're finally ready, son." He says.

Son.
A word I'll never get used to.
Would a father do the things he has done to me?

"Yeah. I'm ready." I mutter.

My father leans back in his chair, eyes watching me like a hawk waiting for a weakness. His fingers tap lightly against the contract. "You've done well. This is your empire now." He says.

I swallow hard. My empire. I feel sick thinking about it. The power, the blood, the cruelty of it all. And now it's my turn to control. But I guess that's all I'm made for.

I want to scream at him, to tell him I'm not the person he made me to be. But the truth is, I am. I can't escape it. And now I'm signing away any humanity I have left.

And I do. I grab the pen and sign it. Because I can't let him be in control anymore.
Not that I'm any better than him.

He smirks, then stands up to leave. Letting me take care of the mess he's left behind.

I hate him.

I can still feel it. The sting of his anger, the weight of his power, crushing me from all sides.
He didn't just raise me, he broke me. He took the pieces and rearranged them however he wanted, molding me into someone I didn't want to be. Every mistake, every misstep, was a lesson to him. A chance to punish me.

My friends. I had friends back then. People I trusted. He made me do terrible things to them. He pushed me, twisted my arm until I did it. I wanted to scream, to run, say no. But I never wanted to die. I still hear their cries. They still haunt me. Every fucking night.

And when I finally thought I was strong enough to say no? To stand up for myself?
It didn't matter. He didn't care. He made sure I knew what happened to people who tried to defy him. The pain was...is insufferable.
It ripped through me, each lash of it tearing away the little bit of myself I had left. No matter how much you wanted to escape him, you couldn't.

The day my sister died was the first time I told him no.

I stood there the gun heavy in my hands, trembling. My mind screamed for me to stop, to throw it down, to run. I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt the only good thing I had left.
"It's okey Rowie. Just put the gun down." My sister had said. Her words cut off in a sob.

I had put it down just as she had said. And I smiled at her. She gave me a proud smile back.

"I won't." I had shouted.

"I won't do it!" I had said again, backing away, shaking my head violently.

My fathers eyes were dark, empty, like the world had long ago drained the life from him.
He didn't say anything at first, and for a second I thought he might let this one slide. I thought maybe that he realized he had gone too far this time. He just watched me, waiting.

"Please...dad." I had begged him. But he didn't care.

In a second, he lunged forward, his hand grabbing mine with a grip so tight it made my fingers go numb.
His hand took control of the gun, shoving it back into my shaking hands, pointing it directly at Lucy.

I froze. My heart pounding in my ears. "No! No, please!" I screamed, but it was too late.

He didn't even flinch as he squeezed my fingers around the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed in the small room, louder than I could ever have imagined.

It wasn't just a shot, it was a mark on my soul.

Lucy collapsed in front of me. Her body crumpling like a broken doll. The world seemed to stop. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. I felt the floor drop out from under me, my legs giving way as I sank to the ground. I wanted to die right there with her. I wanted to take her place.

I couldn't look at her. Her face, the blood it was all too much. The tears came harder, faster. The pain in my chest was unbearable. It was as if the world was squeezing the life out of me, slowly, painfully.

He made sure I was watching. He made sure that, in the end, I couldn't escape what I had just allowed. He grabbed my head, forcing it upward with such brutal strength that I felt my neck crack. I couldn't move, couldn't look away as they dragged her lifeless body away.

Why haven't I killed him? Why can't I just end it, like I've done so many others? I've pictured it. His blood on my hands. It should be easy, right?
He's nothing but a monster, a soulless thing that twisted me into this...thing I am now.

But I can't.

I've spent my whole life hating him. I've killed for him, killed to survive, to prove myself worthy of his approval.
I've killed people who didn't deserve it, who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And every time, it's like I'm carving another piece of myself away.

So why not do the same to him?

Because, maybe I know deep down, I am still that little boy. The one who was terrified of disobeying. The one who begged for love, begged for approval, begged for anything that would stop the pain. No matter how hard I try, no matter how many bodies I pile up, no matter how much blood I spill, I am still that little boy who wanted his dad to love him. Who needed his dad to see him more than a tool. Who needs someone...anyone to see him.

I hate him, and yet...there's still a piece of me, buried deep, that wishes he could've been different. That maybe, just maybe, if I kill him, I'll be no better than the monster he made me. And I can't stand that.

So I don't kill him. Because in a way, I'm still trying to hold on to whatever I have left. Even though I do not deserve it. Even though I've done things that can't be undone.

I'm afraid that if I kill him...I'll stop being human. And I can't bear to loose that too.

So here's a little backstory for Rowan, I felt so bad writing this.
So...both Scarlett and Rowan come from messed up families... Great.🤧