It was a little more than 12 years ago when I first began to hate the Currey family. My father, Kenneth McQuillan, was the 18th richest man in America⦠but none of that ever really mattered to me. The priceless possessions which surrounded me all of my life never meant anything to me. The only thing we owned that I revered was a very cheap necklace which my mother had loved. It was a simple gold chain with a diamond heart pendant. The diamonds which made up the heart were not even real, but simply cubic zirconians. My father had tried for years to get her to wear the expensive jewelry which he showered her with, but she would never give up the necklace. When she died giving birth to me, it was the only thing of hers that I knew she had loved and cherished, and I vowed to keep it with me always to remind me of her. I kept my word until it was ruthlessly taken from me.
Though my father was a rich man, he never really behaved as one. All throughout his life he would go down to a small bar in town called The Dragonās Lair every night to enjoy a drink with the townsfolk. He befriended a man named Jonathan Currey, though why, I could never understand. Jonathan was a drunk and it was a well-known fact that he was addicted to heroin. When he was going through withdrawal, you did everything you could to stay away from him. I disliked him from the moment I laid my eyes on him. In fact, his first words to me were, āAndrew you dumb bastard; grow some facial hair. You look like a damn fagā. With a greeting like that, how could anyone like this man? No one really did like Jonathan except for my father, and Jonathanās wife Mary Beth. I had met Mary Beth only once and that was enough. She was a very pretty woman, but she too was more interested in drugs and alcohol than socializing.
Now that you know the basics of these people, I can go on to what happened that night 12 years ago which made me go from simply loathing them, to all out hating them. It was nearing 1am and my father was still out at the Dragonās Lair. He had tried to get me to go with him, but I never really fit in there. I was happier to stay at home and finish up whatever book I was reading at the time. I was beginning to worry about my father, so I drove down to the bar to bring him home. When I walked into the place I overheard Jonathan Currey begging my father to lend him some money. We all knew he would use the money on heroine, so my father kindly told him that he couldnāt give him any. I could see Jonathan was getting desperate, so I quickly went over to where they were seated and told Jonathan to go home, and proceeded to help my father out to the car. On the ride home my father spoke of his grief that his friend was still so dependent on drugs and how he wished he could do something to help him. I kept my mouth shut as to not offend him with my disgust for the man. When we reached home, we both retired to bed.
That night I was awoken by some strange sound. I quickly got out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe as I made my way to my fatherās room to check on him. As I walked in, I heard the front door of the mansion slam closed, and I saw my father slumped over on the floor. I rushed over to him and saw a deep gash in his stomach. My first thoughts were that someone had broken in and stabbed him. He tried to remain calm as he told me to call for help. I called 911 and while we waited for the paramedics I kept pressure on his wound. As he laid there he told me what happened. He said that he woke up and saw that there was someone in his room going through his drawers and desk. He simply thought it was me so he got up and walked over to the intruder. The intruder was startled that my father was awake, panicked, and stabbed him. My father told me quietly, āIt was Jonathan. I saw his face. He was looking for money or something to sellā. I was shocked and told my father Iād tell the police and see that he was arrested, but my father would not hear of it. He said, āSon I know you never liked Jonathan, but he is my best and only friend. He was going through withdrawal and was not himself. Donāt tell anyone he did this and donāt go after him yourself. I forbid it. I forgive him for what heās doneā. The ambulance arrived soon after and took him to the emergency room.
My father survived the stabbing and made a full recovery. Jonathan Currey and his wife even visited him in the hospital, though my father would not tell me if he admitted to the crime or not. My father had no trouble forgiving him, but I never got over it. The next day after the stabbing, I had searched through the house with some police officers to assess what the burglar had stolen. He had gotten away with nearly $900 in cash, a few priceless jewels, and my motherās favorite necklace. Jonathan must have thought the diamonds were real and took it. I was so distraught at losing the only part of my mother that I had left, that I vowed revenge on Jonathan Currey and even his wife Mary Beth. I went to my father and told him what Jonathan had taken, but still he was unwilling to do anything about it. I would have to wait for my revenge. I went to the pawnshop daily after that and saw everything Jonathan had stolen from our house come through⦠everything except for my motherās necklace. The man running the pawnshop remembered the necklace and said Jonathan had been furious when he had told him that it was a fake. Jonathan had cursed and taken the necklace back home with him.
Twelve years later my father passed away from old age. I was grief-stricken and would not leave the house for days. He had been my only family and now I felt utterly alone and cut off from the world. Plus he had left me everything he owned, therefore I became the new 18th wealthiest man in America⦠I title that I was wary to take on. My family doctor stopped in a few days after the funeral and tried to console me. He advised me to try to move on with my life; to travel and to do whatever I had ever wanted. That was the light at the end of the tunnel for me. Do what Iāve always wanted⦠it was time for the Currey family to pay for what they did; but more importantly, it was time for me to get my motherās necklace back. I had a mission.