Chapter Three: Normal life?

School? Really? I mean, I know it's a good place to lie low and stay out of the public eye, but it's not like I have ever been to one. That and I'm not exactly good with people my age. They're too emotional and unpredictable for me. Plus, it's not like I have much experience with dealing with them, since most weapon buyers tend to be adults.

I let out a deep sigh and put down the documents. Well, I guess it beats that cold jail cell and hospital bed. I looked out the window at the small coastline city. Despite its lovely views and waterfront properties, most of this city consists of old eastern-style buildings, with a few modern ones. To put it simply, this city looks like a tourist trap that hasn't modernized.

Well, at least this penthouse is lovely. Clearly, my father is the one who built this building, considering this penthouse matches his taste. The floors were black marble, and the walls were white marble. There were large windows that had a nice view, and the furniture had a mid-century retro look. He was always into the whole gilded rich look, but it was probably just to impress potential buyers.

There are several framed pictures of us hanging on the walls. I stared at the largest picture, and it was of him standing behind me with his hands resting on my shoulders, while I was holding a rifle. He must have really loved that picture, after all, that was right after Mom left us, and he took me out to learn the business. I have no ill will towards my mother for leaving us. Our situation wasn't normal by any standards.

She left once she found out what my father was really doing for a job. I, on the other hand, was really interested. I guess you can say that my father and I are cut from the same cloth. I think that was my mother's last straw. Once she realized I was going to be another him, she left and never looked back.

My father was reasonably upset by her leaving, so he devoted himself to teaching me everything he knew. That picture was from the day my father taught me about firearms and how they work, and how to shoot them. I won't deny that it was probably one of the best days I have ever had. It's not every day that a kid gets to drive around shooting .50 cals and firing RPGs.

The thought of going to school sinks into my mind again. Maybe my father secretly wanted me to have a normal life. Perhaps he realized that I was becoming too much like him and that I needed some normalcy. Either way, it's not something I can really imagine myself doing, but a school would be a good place to hide from that noisy press. After all, that would be the last place anyone would bother to check.

I got up from the sofa and headed for my room. On my bed were what looked like a school uniform and some more documents. Well, at least the school has some class. I grabbed the documents and looked them over. They included my school schedule, ID, and essential information about what I was supposed to do and what I wasn't supposed to do.

I let out another deep sigh. Well, I'm not one for rules, but I'd rather not cause any incident right now, considering that government agencies are keeping an eye on me. That and the press really wants to see me behind bars. The hell with it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. It can't be any worse than those desert tribes that don't even have running water.

I went to bed early and woke up to my alarm. I did my daily routine of showering, eating breakfast, checking the news, then I put on my school uniform, and looked in the bathroom mirror. The cuts on my face were healed enough to only have small scabs, which looked like a cat or something had scratched me. It was something a little makeup would cover up.

Not that I'm one to wear such junk, but it would probably be in my best interest for people to not know about my wounds. After all, gunshot and shrapnel wounds are not something that people would see in this country. I grabbed the makeup brush and started applying it to the cuts. I hate this crap.

I've seen the world, and I've got to say women who wear too much makeup fall into two categories. Either A, they are trying to hide something, or B, they are trying way too hard to impress someone. Both of which are red flags to me. The number of women who wanted to seduce my father was insane. Granted, most of them were paid off by the people we were trying to sell to, to reduce the price. It's a good thing my father wasn't stupid and saw through their BS.

Needless to say, I'm not a fan of makeup, or even girly things for that matter. I've seen too much of the dark side of humanity, and it's started to warp my view of things. Reality isn't as beautiful as people make it out to be. One minute you sell guns and the next you're barely clinging to life. Things like makeup and masks are nothing but things to hide the true nature of things. I checked my phone and noticed the time. Well, I guess it's time to find out how normal people live.