My Mother's Killer - Ch.2

The memories of my childhood flood back from time to time; I can still almost smell the burning houses. After the man with the scar killed my mother he threw a torch on our home. I had to get out of the cellar or I would die too. I pushed the door open and smoke quickly filled my lungs. I gasped for breath and looked for a way out; I went over to the window in the back; just before I jumped out I grabbed a bag of supplies my father had left out for the trip he should have made. I climbed out the window and stayed close to the ground. I could hear the screams of women and children all around me. What monsters these men were; they killed anything that got in their way and took no prisoners. I headed towards my father's shop as fast as my little legs could carry me. I pushed the door open only to find him dead in a pool of blood; then everything hit me; my mother and father were dead, I had no one left, I was on my own. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore; they began pouring out of my eyes, burning with each tear that came.

I stroked my father's dark brown hair and made a promise to myself. I would be strong, I would make it out alive, and I would kill the man that did this. I looked down to see his sword; he loved his sword and he had made it special. It was a silver sword with horses on the handle. It read "I fight for the ones I love; Marie and Mary." Now I would do the same I would fight for my Mother and Father. I grabbed the sword the weight held my weak hands down. The only thought in my head was "Revenge," I used this to give me the extra strength I needed to lug the sword around. I headed for the door and ran into the forest as quickly as I could. I was weak back then, but now I am as strong as any man. Don't let looks fool you I can fight with the best of them. I have my mother's beauty; long blonde wavy hair, pure blue eyes, and a smile that can melt your heart; I hate it every time I see myself I am reminded of her and my quest for revenge. I have taught myself to be strong; I have my father's will to win and his fighting style. I remember watching him practice when I was younger; that's how I first started to train.