1995His love is a drug that cannot be undone. Blessed with the gift of total clarity is Mister Knightfall. He who's unadulterated dreams have been showered upon two souls deemed very much worthy. Goodness gracious how remarkable it must feel to be chosen among hundreds. This overwhelming feeling only warmed his body so lustfully. And as he nudged the creaky door aside, heavenly light emitting from his hopeful green eyes, there's a nostalgic sense of bravado that creep up his naughty parts. A notion that only heightened when the sight of one beautiful gal graced his presence. Her scent a sweet vanilla. Her features withholding such innocence that he'd hate to deflower something so unique. He stood beside her as silent as a lamb; undressing her slowly with his imaginative mind. Part of him felt inclined to touch his arranged bride. What was the purpose of acting married if he couldn't at all play the part? And as his lukewarm fingertips inch toward her own, there's a sudden cry that escapes the mouth of their newborn assignment. There's a slight smirk that stretched onto a face so untrustworthy as infantile shrieks encompassed the room. He's happy. He's glad. He's a first time father who's made tons of mistakes. This time he'd prove his greatness to Mister Knightfall with the slightest of ease. Raising this child to become someone immensely important. "What should we name him?" he said, loosening his white collar as his so called wife walked toward a rocking crib.
Her sincerity was increasingly apparent. She hadn't the slightest clue on how to be a mommy. Her own mother had bloodily perished during delivery. Nevertheless she grew into womanhood though not as lovely as the curvaceous women married to the richest men. Some claimed her unwillingness to act dirty was her ultimate downfall. After all a husband requires a lady in the daytime but a sexual deviant by nightfall. She never did crumble. She refused to convert into some sexual object. No she had a purpose beyond the average gal. Mister Knightfall saw something beneath her tough exterior. Her curiosity exploited and given a single chance. This one opportunity not even his most trusted employees were handed. Gently caressing the reddened cheeks of her appointed baby boy, this pleasant persona couldn't help but care for this freshly made soul. She was afraid of course. It's quite difficult being a mother during the modern century. Nineteen ninety-five has proven quite rambunctious. She teared a bit. Emotions run high when a woman has a child. An emotion no man can truly understand. "Marcus Antonio Knightfall...after my father" she said, pinning back her curly caramel hair. She smiled for once. It was a sight not many people saw from petite Patricia. Mister Knightfall had given her true purpose. She lifted this child from his bed, singing a soft tune as his smooth face murmured inaudible sayings. Who knew...even abominations could be beautiful.
Saint Michael's Medical CenterShe stood by his bedside, ashamed by the teenager peacefully sleeping beside her. Patricia was lucky raising him in his youth, because she got stuck with his rebellious tenure. Children always despise their step parents, no matter how understanding they try to be. Whilst caressing his smooth reddened cheeks, Clarice Michelle felt the urge to tear out his vocal cords. Murder this bastard being from existence and start anew elsewhere. Babysitting the last undocumented Knightfall child is a waste of her exemplary talents. A hundred ways to end his pathetic excuse for a life. Seventeen years nearing eighteen wasted on drugs, alcohol, and sexual activity. Unused talent that could sure as hell catapult him into the most rewarding schools like thee ever so prestigious Phoenix Academy. She could make his death look convincingly accidental. Play the part of an ashamed protege and urge Mister Knightfall to place her elsewhere. She sounds as mad as a hatter but her violet eyes wouldn't even shed a single tear. She's the devil dressed in optimistic blue. Crimson colored hair often concealing wicked countenances. As she stood by his bedside the footsteps of another only alarmed her killer senses. Arching her hand backwards she grasped onto the tie of the unknown figure standing silently like a lamb.
"Settle down..." he whispered, adjusting his nerdy glasses. His tepid fingertips lightly touched her honey bee lips. A preacher and his wife fully prepared to love one another in broad daylight while their supposed son lay unconscious . "...we have business to attend too. We only have a few hours to relocate before our entire scheme is dissolved" he hesitantly hissed, their lying lips only touching momentarily. Medical files required deleting and his bodacious bride knew exactly how to do it. She immediately departed the taste of her cherry chap stick lingering on his own. "Daddy?" whispered the awakening boy wonder, his sympathetic blue eyes not matching his bad boy shtick. "Clarice d-did..." he murmured, tears sliding down his bruised skin, the aches on his body preventing clear speech. "Shh don't speak" his disconnected father calmly retorted. Young Tony knew he made many mistakes in his livid life but this time he didn't do anything wrong. All he did was discover the truth. Discover the truth he deserved since he could create a single tangible thought. He's adopted and he wanted to know why. He wanted to know the truth and all he got in return was a beating he wouldn't wish onto anyone. His every muscle yearned for movement. His mind hollering for escape. "Shh don't speak" said the alarmingly calm preacher who's love for his son was everything but unconditional.
A single lie destroys a whole reputation for integrity ~ Baltasar Gracian