Hate

Carter Moradian spat on the ground. The hate that was coming through him put a bad taste in his mouth. Still he stood outside of the Reinstein residence waiting. Maybe tonight, he could stop this whole thing. Maybe tonight one of the Reinsteins would come out of that house. Maybe tonight he could make the kill.



"Hello Carter." Mr. Lipson's voice filled Carter's ears. He had forgotten that Mr. Lipson took his walks on Tuesday evenings. He was able to quickly get the gun out of Lipson's eyesight.



"Hi." he said in a muffled voice. Mr. Lipson moved on. Carter knew that Mr. Lipson would be passing by on his way back. If he wasn't gone by then, he would have to deal with Lipson's hankering about how it was so late for a 15 year old to be out. Carter gave a heavy sigh, picked up his gun, and walked back home. Home. Yeah. Not really.



"Carter, what were you doing?" His father greeted.



" I was just out." Carter kept moving.



"You won't be able to kill a Reinstein if you go out on your own plans." His father said. "The spirits will tell us when to make the attack."



Carter really didn't know what he thought of this spirit business. If they existed, they sure took a long time to get a decent plan in motion.



He really had no clue if he believed in anything, except that anyone with the last name Reinstein that was still living was his mortal enemy. Someone who needed to be shot and destroyed. His father had shoved that idea down his throat ever since he was born, probably ever since he was conceived. He knew that Reinsteins and Moradians were once friends, until the day William Reinstein married a Skavinsky. What never made sense, is that the whole issue was over something that happened to a Reinstein. Why did he have to care? Or his father? It was done, over. But the hate had been pounded into him and one day he would kill a Reinstein. One day indeed.