“Do you want a drink with that peach pie, hon?"

“No, just the peach pie will do and thank you.”

“Alright, your food will be right out.”

I handed the waitress my menu, and then she walked away. I turned my head to the window, it was raining at the side like that evening, cars passing while their headlights shining bright. As I stared out from the window for a while thinking on what to do next, I was pondering if I should turn myself in which would lead to people experimenting on me, trying to recreate my father’s work. Another option was to die, end this once blissful family tree that turned into mold or live my life on the run with no name to me. All those things that I have done, am I no worse than my father. I killed him and still I’m clinging on to the chance to live, like the nightmares that my hands have down will not follow till the end.

“Here is your peach pie.” She sat it down in front of me.

I smiled up at her gently, “Thank you.” and looked down at the food.

“Ma’am, you got a little something on your face,” she motioned her hand to the left bottom side of her face, “Looks like dirt.”

“Oh,” I rubbed my hand all around the bottom of my face, “Thank you,”

She nodded and walked away, I looked down at my hand seeing the dirt smudged on it, and then to my fingernail's dirt all up inside them. I went back into the hospital, I couldn’t leave their bodies there, I dragged them all out to the peach tree. I dig my hands into the ground, making large enough holes for them. I put them in just in time the rain started to pour down and made my way here to this little restaurant drenching wet. So kind of them to serve a customer that made a big mess on the floor with every step I took.

I took a bite of my peach pie, the taste was delicious, I felt like I haven't eaten in ages. It tasted sweet, it was sauce, and it had a nice flow when you cut through it. Not as good on how my father made it, he would always say that the secret recipe was the peach itself, but I never believed him. As I finished up the last bite, red words started typing on the corn of my right-side eye.

“New Mission.”