I look at him dead in the eye, my mouth twitches. "Fine,"
"At age five I watched as the men that my father used to work with burned my house down, with my mother in it. Thinking that I didn't notice, my father made us re-locate elsewhere, saying that it was just the stove catching fire. The next place, it didn't get much better, men always tried to break down the house, scavenging for something I didn't know about lay hidden in a treasurey."
"I then was placed with my aunt at age 8, from there on out I was trained hard core as if I was an adult, not a child. I missed school, missed family dinners, wasn't read bed time stories...No, instead I was trained to be a killer,"
I clear my throat again, look out the window. "I beleive that's where my father headed, my old house was over 1,000 miles away, men probably tried to stop him on his way."