Jude Duarte . d6 . cb

I was seven he came to my home.

I was seven when I heard the yells of my mother, my father, as he knocked them down, axe dripping with their blood.

I stood in the room next to their cooling bodies, my twin sister sobbing, our older sister standing protectively in front of us. He pays no attention to me and my twin, only looks at Vivian. He calls her his daughter, demanding that she leaves with him when he notices us for the first time, hesitating as his gaze takes in the bodies of our dead parents.

I was seven when I was taken from home, one hidden on the out skirts of district Six. Taken to be raised by the man who murdered my parents.

Madoc, Vee's, biological father, tried to raise Taryn and myself as though we were his own. He insisted that we call him dad, and gave us almost everything that he did too Vee and his other son, Oak. Sometimes it almost felt like we were one big family. That me loving him could be okay... But then I would remember their blood on his hands, and I would feel sick at the fact that I had allowed myself to open my heart to him.

Vivian never did allow him into her heart, and I could see that it hurt him, cause in the end she was his daughter and Taryn and I were just the loose ends of a tragic event.

The daughters he never wanted but one day might love.