Murder, Love, and Revenge
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Murder, Love, and Revenge
Chapter I
My name is Clara Anima, and I'm 14 years old, I'll be 15 next month, which was October. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father is in prison. He was accused of being the murderer of Thomas Staylow, a college boy who was shot multiple times, and was found on the shores of a beach near Treston Avenue. My father's "girlfriend" set him up and placed him under arrest. How do I know? Because I saw the evil look in her eye when the cops carried me away from my father when I was 8 years old.
The "girlfriend's" name was Melinda Castdown, and she had already had a husband down in the UK. I was so mad at her, I felt like tearing her to pieces. She had lied to my father all these years, and now, my father was in prison because of her.
Melinda Castdown, and her husband, Wilfred, and their two children, now teenagers, Monica and Jeffrey, lived in an isolated mansion somewhere near London. They had another isolated house a few blocks from them, which was where I was going to live. Even though, I'm only 14 1/2, my father left me a whole bunch of money so I could take care of myself. Now, I was using a little bit of that money to buy that house a few blocks from the Castdowns. The furniture from my old place was already there and set up. Plus, I had gone there with my clothes and stuff and unpacked, putting everything where I wanted them, and the clothes where they should be.
I wanted revenge on Melinda, and I wanted it bad. I'm not a murderer or anything, and I don't want to be. But Melinda had made me so mad all these years, so, what other choice do I really have? I mean, I could go to the NCIS, where a good friend of my father's, works, but what's the fun in getting revenge that way? So, I decided to get my revenge my own way. It was going to be difficult, but I didn't care, just as long as Melinda was out of my hair and my father was out of prison.
I sat in a corner of Michael's Diner, and waited for my dinner to arrive. Michael's Diner was close to the beach in California, so, when I was walking to my old house to say one last goodbye (my plane back to the UK was in a few hours, and I wanted to say one last goodbye to the place before I left for good), my stomach had rumbled hungrily, and I realized I had missed lunch today. So now, here I am, alone and waiting for my food.
I looked around, and spotted Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, my father's friend that I had mentioned, walking toward me. He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked sad about something.
I suddenly had a bad feeling that something happened to my father. Gibbs (he let's me call him that) sat down across from me, and rubbed his eyes. My bottom lip trembled as he gave me a sad look. "He's dead. Isn't he?" I whispered, staring him in the eyes. He hesitated, then slowly nodded. My eyes brimmed with tears, and I started crying. I buried my face in my hands, and cried my heart out. Gibbs took my hand and held it.
"Who-Who did it?" I whispered, wiping the tears with my free hand. "We don't know." he replied softly. "But I promise you, Clara, we'll find out who killed your father and put him or her behind bars. You can choose their future." I nodded, the tears sliding down my cheeks. I gritted my teeth in anger at the murderer of my father. "I don't want them behind bars," I told Gibbs. "I want them dead." He smiled softly at me. "I'll see what I can do about that." he chuckled. The idea of them dead amused him, and I knew he wanted the same thing as I did. Revenge.
I looked my watery eyes into his. "He was innoscent, Gibbs. He didn't kill Staylow. Someone else did. And that b**** of a woman is going to pay for putting my father in prison for something he didn't do." I told him. He sighed. "I know. We also know who was Staylow's real murderer." he replied. I stopped crying. "Amadeus Michaels?" I whispered. He smiled at me. "How did you know?" he asked. I shrugged a little. "My gut told me it was him." I replied. He laughed. "You're becoming more like me, Clara." He laughed. I smiled, and nodded. "So, where's Michaels?" I asked. He sighed, his smile gone. "We don't know. We've tried tracking him down to places, but all they've lead to were other victims." he replied. I leaned forward. "How many victims?" I asked slowly. "So far, three." he replied. "Be careful, Gibbs. Michaels is smart. Probably smart enough to hide somewhere where you can't find him." I warned him. "And how do you know that?" he asked. I looked down, hesitating. Then I replied, "I've been watching him a few times." "Good enough answer." he said simply. "Gibbs, honestly, I've only seen him around a couple of times, and I've heard of him a bunch of times on the news and radio and whatever." I sighed. "I know." he said. "How is it that you know everything?" I grumbled as my food arrived. "Gut." he smiled. I rolled my eyes, and started eating.
"So, how are you gonna get your revenge?" he asked. I thought about it. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt anybody, but I'm thinking of captoring and hiding Monica and Jeffrey. You know, Melinda and Wilfred's kids." I replied. "Where are you gonna hide them?" he asked. I frowned. Didn't think about that. Gibbs smiled. "What about that old friend of yours? Luke Moore? Bet you could hide the kids at his place." I smiled. That was a good idea. "Or," a voice said. "You could hide them in a cave." It was Tony DiNozzo. He may be a part of Gibbs' team, but we were frienemies, and ususally, he gets under my skin and drives my up the wall.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Shut up, Tony. I'm not in the mood to deal with idiocy tonight." I told him. "DiNozzo, what are you doing here?" Gibbs sighed. "Boss, we found Michaels. Again." Tony replied. "Let him go. Clara, here, will take care of it the next time she sees him." Gibbs told him. Tony froze, looking a mixture of surprise and shock. I smirked at him. "That also means Go." I sneered. He glared at me, but walked out of the restaurant anyway.
"I better go. Before he does or says anything stupid." Gibbs sighed, gathering up his things. I nodded. I was done eating anyway, and ready to go as well. Gibbs payed for the food for me, and I thanked him. Then, we both walked out of the restaurant.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Clara." Gibbs told me once we were outside. "Do you need somebody to accompany you during this whole revenge-on-Melinda Castdown thing?" I shook my head. "Luke will be enough. He likes to do dangerous stuff anyway." I replied. He nodded. "Alrighty, then. But if you need anything, you know what to do." he said as he walked to the side of his car. I nodded again. "You be careful, Clara. I don't you hurt." he warned. "Besides Abby, you are like a daughter to me. I don't want to lose you." "Don't worry, Gibbs. I know what I'm doing." I reasurred him. "Let's just hope so." he smiled, then he got into his car.
He waved goodbye to me, and I waved back, smiling. I watched him leave, then I headed toward my own car, which was a sweet Mustang convertible. I only hoped my plan would work.
Chapter I
My name is Clara Anima, and I'm 14 years old, I'll be 15 next month, which was October. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father is in prison. He was accused of being the murderer of Thomas Staylow, a college boy who was shot multiple times, and was found on the shores of a beach near Treston Avenue. My father's "girlfriend" set him up and placed him under arrest. How do I know? Because I saw the evil look in her eye when the cops carried me away from my father when I was 8 years old.
The "girlfriend's" name was Melinda Castdown, and she had already had a husband down in the UK. I was so mad at her, I felt like tearing her to pieces. She had lied to my father all these years, and now, my father was in prison because of her.
Melinda Castdown, and her husband, Wilfred, and their two children, now teenagers, Monica and Jeffrey, lived in an isolated mansion somewhere near London. They had another isolated house a few blocks from them, which was where I was going to live. Even though, I'm only 14 1/2, my father left me a whole bunch of money so I could take care of myself. Now, I was using a little bit of that money to buy that house a few blocks from the Castdowns. The furniture from my old place was already there and set up. Plus, I had gone there with my clothes and stuff and unpacked, putting everything where I wanted them, and the clothes where they should be.
I wanted revenge on Melinda, and I wanted it bad. I'm not a murderer or anything, and I don't want to be. But Melinda had made me so mad all these years, so, what other choice do I really have? I mean, I could go to the NCIS, where a good friend of my father's, works, but what's the fun in getting revenge that way? So, I decided to get my revenge my own way. It was going to be difficult, but I didn't care, just as long as Melinda was out of my hair and my father was out of prison.
I sat in a corner of Michael's Diner, and waited for my dinner to arrive. Michael's Diner was close to the beach in California, so, when I was walking to my old house to say one last goodbye (my plane back to the UK was in a few hours, and I wanted to say one last goodbye to the place before I left for good), my stomach had rumbled hungrily, and I realized I had missed lunch today. So now, here I am, alone and waiting for my food.
I looked around, and spotted Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, my father's friend that I had mentioned, walking toward me. He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked sad about something.
I suddenly had a bad feeling that something happened to my father. Gibbs (he let's me call him that) sat down across from me, and rubbed his eyes. My bottom lip trembled as he gave me a sad look. "He's dead. Isn't he?" I whispered, staring him in the eyes. He hesitated, then slowly nodded. My eyes brimmed with tears, and I started crying. I buried my face in my hands, and cried my heart out. Gibbs took my hand and held it.
"Who-Who did it?" I whispered, wiping the tears with my free hand. "We don't know." he replied softly. "But I promise you, Clara, we'll find out who killed your father and put him or her behind bars. You can choose their future." I nodded, the tears sliding down my cheeks. I gritted my teeth in anger at the murderer of my father. "I don't want them behind bars," I told Gibbs. "I want them dead." He smiled softly at me. "I'll see what I can do about that." he chuckled. The idea of them dead amused him, and I knew he wanted the same thing as I did. Revenge.
I looked my watery eyes into his. "He was innoscent, Gibbs. He didn't kill Staylow. Someone else did. And that b**** of a woman is going to pay for putting my father in prison for something he didn't do." I told him. He sighed. "I know. We also know who was Staylow's real murderer." he replied. I stopped crying. "Amadeus Michaels?" I whispered. He smiled at me. "How did you know?" he asked. I shrugged a little. "My gut told me it was him." I replied. He laughed. "You're becoming more like me, Clara." He laughed. I smiled, and nodded. "So, where's Michaels?" I asked. He sighed, his smile gone. "We don't know. We've tried tracking him down to places, but all they've lead to were other victims." he replied. I leaned forward. "How many victims?" I asked slowly. "So far, three." he replied. "Be careful, Gibbs. Michaels is smart. Probably smart enough to hide somewhere where you can't find him." I warned him. "And how do you know that?" he asked. I looked down, hesitating. Then I replied, "I've been watching him a few times." "Good enough answer." he said simply. "Gibbs, honestly, I've only seen him around a couple of times, and I've heard of him a bunch of times on the news and radio and whatever." I sighed. "I know." he said. "How is it that you know everything?" I grumbled as my food arrived. "Gut." he smiled. I rolled my eyes, and started eating.
"So, how are you gonna get your revenge?" he asked. I thought about it. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt anybody, but I'm thinking of captoring and hiding Monica and Jeffrey. You know, Melinda and Wilfred's kids." I replied. "Where are you gonna hide them?" he asked. I frowned. Didn't think about that. Gibbs smiled. "What about that old friend of yours? Luke Moore? Bet you could hide the kids at his place." I smiled. That was a good idea. "Or," a voice said. "You could hide them in a cave." It was Tony DiNozzo. He may be a part of Gibbs' team, but we were frienemies, and ususally, he gets under my skin and drives my up the wall.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Shut up, Tony. I'm not in the mood to deal with idiocy tonight." I told him. "DiNozzo, what are you doing here?" Gibbs sighed. "Boss, we found Michaels. Again." Tony replied. "Let him go. Clara, here, will take care of it the next time she sees him." Gibbs told him. Tony froze, looking a mixture of surprise and shock. I smirked at him. "That also means Go." I sneered. He glared at me, but walked out of the restaurant anyway.
"I better go. Before he does or says anything stupid." Gibbs sighed, gathering up his things. I nodded. I was done eating anyway, and ready to go as well. Gibbs payed for the food for me, and I thanked him. Then, we both walked out of the restaurant.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Clara." Gibbs told me once we were outside. "Do you need somebody to accompany you during this whole revenge-on-Melinda Castdown thing?" I shook my head. "Luke will be enough. He likes to do dangerous stuff anyway." I replied. He nodded. "Alrighty, then. But if you need anything, you know what to do." he said as he walked to the side of his car. I nodded again. "You be careful, Clara. I don't you hurt." he warned. "Besides Abby, you are like a daughter to me. I don't want to lose you." "Don't worry, Gibbs. I know what I'm doing." I reasurred him. "Let's just hope so." he smiled, then he got into his car.
He waved goodbye to me, and I waved back, smiling. I watched him leave, then I headed toward my own car, which was a sweet Mustang convertible. I only hoped my plan would work.
2 Comments
hope everybody liked this chapter. it sure made me alugh when I wrote it :).
i mean, "laugh".