Who Is My Killer?

I awake hazily from my dreams,
And sense something not right.
I hear my mother’s screams
Followed by a gunshot in the night.

Stupidly and filled with curiosity,
To see what happened, I run downstairs.
In the living room I am in, my mother
Lies on her tummy without a care.

Her head is laid in her puddle of blood.
I gasped, trying to back away.
Someone behind me held a towel and
Quickly covered my mouth before I could say.

Slowly I began to drop to my knees
I felt so dizzy and everything is blurry.
Hours later, I wake up in a van.
The guy driving is in such a hurry.

He looks vaguely familiar,
But he’s wearing a mask.
I look beside me and there is a bag.
It is very long and big. I wonder what’s his task.

Oh wait there’s something in it.
I rise up and unzip the bag
There was my dead mother
Bloody and gagged.

I screamed so loud
That I think I scared the man.
He stopped so suddenly,
And almost started to tell his plan.

But instead he said not a word,
And upon my face enjoyed the sorrow
Knowing that I will soon
Join my mother before tomorrow.

As he continues to drive,
A musty small of sweet decay
Fills my nostrils and I try not in inhale.
Oh, God, there must be another way.

Thinking nervously and full of panic,
He comes to an abrupt stop.
Just thinking about what is to come,
My stomach gets tangled In knots.

As he slide open the door,
His face, I still can’t see.
Scared, I want to try to run,
But he is a lot stronger than me.

He literally drags me into the night
Across an abandoned road.
It is so dark outside that
No one would even know.

I guess I was too scared to realize
That along with me he carried a bat.
I didn't want to die. It wasn't my time.
Silently I prayed I wouldn't, not like that.

Maybe I was not good enough
Because God was not with me.
If only I were a better person,
It's just so clearly to see.

I am covered in mud
As I lay here on the dirty ground.
I feel so hopeless as he begins to hit me,
Just begging for my body to be found.

I cannot see as he beats me with the bat,
But I can tell my hair isn't blonde anymore.
The pain swells all over my body.
My bones are fractured and my soul is torn.

At last he is done and is ready to leave.
He doesn't worry about the mess
Because he does not have the time.
He smiles and bends over my chest.

As he gently kisses me on my forehead,
I catch a glimpse of his face.
He whispers, “Goodbye my child”,
And leave me to die without grace.

*Have you guessed who the killer is? It is the father...*