The Finale Read Online Free PDF Page A

husband’s touch and affection, Ms. Fuller was lonely and desperate. She would climb into bed with her adopted son and stroke his hair. Then she would tell Derek that she loved him more than anything in the world, and that if he wanted to see his brother again, he would have to touch her and she would help him find his brother.
    At first it started out as touching. She’d take his little hands and guide them around her body. She would make him touch her breasts and put his fingers in her vagina. And by the time Derek was eleven, she had begun to make him have full-blown intercourse with her. She would always perform fellatio on him first then make him perform cunnilingus on her. Then she would take his still growing penis and force him to put it in her sloppy, oversized pussy. Most of the time Derek felt disgusting and dirty; sometimes he wanted to vomit.
    But as the years went by, things changed and he felt differently. His body would betray him, and he started to experience sensations he didn’t quite understand. Derek had conditioned himself to fight the good feeling that he started to get as he got older. He told himself the faster he got to that feeling the better, because his turmoil would be over. Derek would ejaculate after a few minutes, so he wouldn’t feel so guilty. It was ingrained in him as a coping mechanism. “Come quickly, and it will be over,” he used to tell himself.
    Although at his adoptive home in the posh northern Maryland suburb of Bowie; Derek had every toy, private school education, went to church, and lived in a beautiful home, none of it was good enough. All he wanted was to see his biological mother and brother again.
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    Meanwhile, Scar remained in the foster care system in the hood of Baltimore. After years of enduring teasing and beatings at the hands of other kids in group home after group home, Scar grew angry inside. On most days he felt ruthless and often had visions of killing the social workers and the other kids with his bare hands. It wasn’t long before Scar was on edge.
    â€œHey, ugly,” a boy had called out to Scar one day, throwing a ping pong ball from the day room and hitting him in the head.
    Scar bit down into his cheek and ignored his tormentor.
    â€œYou so ugly, we could probably win a world war just by showing your face to the enemies.” The boy continued garnering laughs from the other kids sitting around. “Look at that scar and those saggy lips. I bet your mother must have fucked a gorilla to get something as ugly as you.” The boy let out a shrill, grating laugh.
    That was it. Scar snapped. His ear seemed clogged, and the room started spinning around him. He’d never tolerated anyone talking about his mother or his brother.
    â€œArrrggh!” Scar screamed out, suddenly lunging at the boy with a pocketknife he had stolen. Scar had buried the pocketknife deep into the boy’s neck, hitting his jugular vein.
    The boy’s eyes popped open in shock. He didn’t expect the “ugly monster kid” to ever fight back. Screams erupted in the room, and some of the other kids ran out into the hallway to get help, as the boy backed up from Scar’s contact, holding his throat and gagging.
    Scar stumbled backward at the sight of the boy’s thick burgundy blood spewing like a fountain from his neck. Before any of the group home administrators could help, the boy bled to death within minutes, right at Scar’s feet. And though Scar was scared to death, something inside of him felt powerful, almost invincible. The group home security quickly tackled Scar to the floor and held him there until the police arrived.
    Scar spent two months in a mental institution because of that incident. After the psychiatrist cleared him, he was placed in a juvenile detention center, where he stayed until he was eighteen years old. It was at the detention center that Scar learned all of his criminal ways, so by the time