My life has been conditioned in a way that I can’t explain. I’m deep in a hole that I can’t dig myself out of. I ask myself, what is life exactly? Is it all about surviving? Is it just a waiting room that prepares us for death? Maybe it’s simply about pleasing others. I’ve been taught one main thing: you shouldn’t fear anything in life, no matter how much it can come back to bite you. My parents have drilled that so many times into my head. They’ve enforced it through many beatings. When I asked them why they used this method, they said they only wanted the best for me. So I believed them. I believed that whatever they were doing was going to help me.

My household usually sets out standards that everyone should follow. Anyone who chooses not to follow them is labeled as deviant and will be punished. My older brother and I were taught not to worry about karma, because it’s a myth. A myth that only religious people believe in. We were also taught how to support the family in case of emergency, like if one or both of our parents can’t “work” anymore. I have to admit, I’ve learned how to do a damn good job at providing for them and myself.

I came back home from a shift and dropped a black duffel bag on the floor of the living room. Tonight’s shift consisted of me being trained by my older brother, Chandler. He closed the back door behind him and stood next to me. Our parents were sitting stiffly on the couch, waiting to see what we were able to rake in. I bent down to open the bag and exposed over $150,000 in money and silverware together. My parents—specifically my father— sent me on a mission to break into the home of a Senator, who apparently had some dirt on us. I knew very well that that wasn’t the reason. My father just wanted to get revenge on people who’ve wronged him in the past. He uses his children to carry out the dirty work.

“Is he dead?” my father asked me. I smiled and nodded my head. He gave me a look that showed how proud he was. I longed for his approval so much, I was willing to go through desperate measures just to show how competent I could be. I believe that my brother knew how much he was favored in the family, so he always used it to his advantage.

“You should’ve seen it! Marilyn showed no mercy.” Chandler exclaimed as he rested his arm on my shoulder.

“I’m impressed. You do have the guts after all,” my father said. My mother got up from the couch and hugged me. I didn’t know how to react other than to just stand there. She’s never hugged me before so why was she doing it now? She pulled away and sat back down.

“We have a mission for the both of you tomorrow morning,” my father started. I took a seat across from him so that I could listen intently. “You both will be going undercover to the White House and posing as the Secret Service. Your mission is to poison the President of the United States.”

I looked over to Chandler, who had a look of shock. “The President?!” he exclaimed. My father nodded. He looked at me with his eyebrow raised. His piercing blue eyes were staring back at me in a menacing way. If looks could kill, I would’ve already dropped dead.

“That won’t be a problem for you, will it Marilyn?” he asked. I quickly shook my head and nervously chuckled. “Oh no, i-it won’t be.”

“Good. Your mother and I have already planned out everything. You will have the uniform and the ID’s. We made sure that you will not look suspicious. All you need to do is follow the directions and you will be fine,” my father said. I knew that something like this was important to him. The thought of someone dying purely for his comfort was like a fetish. A force that needed to be fed in order for him to feel satisfied. If I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure that he was satisfied, I’m the one who will be paying for it. No one else but me. This is why I strived to make him proud, so that in the end, he can learn to trust my abilities and leave me alone.

“If you fail to execute this order, you will pay the price.” my father said. Though he was speaking in general, his gaze was aimed towards me. I felt a lump in my throat at the thought of his version of a punishment. I remembered the memories of the torture and the violations that forever scarred me. It happened year after year until I got it through my head to just let it be. It wasn’t my dad that was responsible for these actions though. It was his alter ego, Marcel. I don’t know much about where this alter ego comes from, but I’ve experienced how terrifying it can get. After my parents explained everything, they dismissed my brother and me to our bedrooms. I climbed the stairs to my room and changed out of my clothing into my pajamas. After I did my nightly routine, I made sure to lock my bedroom door, bedroom window, and my closet. I had to make sure that these were secured because Marcel likes when I’m vulnerable.

I woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. I looked around and saw that my bedroom door was wide open. I took that as a sign to look down at my arms and legs. They were full of painful scratches and bruises. I instantly knew what had taken place last night and it was then that I realized that I need help. I desperately needed help. Chandler came into my room with his Secret Service uniform on.

“Why aren’t you ready?” he asked. I couldn’t say anything. All I could do was look at him. He noticed the wounds on my body and chose not to say anything! He knew where they came from.
“Get dressed.” I watched as he left the room. After getting ready, I went downstairs to meet my parents, who were having breakfast. My dad looked up from his plate and gave me a creepy smile. It made me feel disgusted.

“Morning! Feeling nervous?” he chirped. I shook my head.

“Good, because if you did we would have a problem.”

I chuckled nervously at his comment. I ate a quick breakfast and left the house with Chandler, who was in a rush. I carried the poison in a small pouch in my pocket along with some gloves. We arrived at the White House and scanned our ID’s. There was nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary. We blended in perfectly. I took the lead down to the President’s office and Chandler followed. The secretary sitting across from the office didn’t say anything as she knew who we were. We walked in to see that no one was in the office.

“Shut off the cameras,” I ordered. Chandler did as I said and hacked the system. On the desk of the President was a nice cup of water. I put on the gloves and prepared the poison. I stood in front of the desk and stared at the cup. What would I gain from killing the President?

“Hurry up, Marilyn!” Chandler hissed. I gulped as I held the poison with trembling hands. I dumped it into the water and swirled the cup around.

“Let’s get out of here,” Chandler said. He started to play around with the cameras. “These will come back on in five minutes.” I stood in my spot, frozen and unsure what to do next. Chandler was getting angry with me and for a second, I could see Marcel in his face. I felt the overwhelming feeling of fear, the one emotion that I was trained not to channel. Chandler was standing by the door, getting ready to leave but instead, he started walking over towards me. I didn’t want him near me. At this point, I didn’t care about what life had to offer me. I didn’t care about life at all.

I made the unforeseeable decision to drink the cup of water.