The Anthes Stigma

III: It Will Soon Be Over

DRAKE

The first glimpses of stars were already beginning to make an appearance when I pulled up the driveway. I spotted two shadows through the illuminated curtains, one leaning over the other. The man seemed to be sitting in a recliner with a bottle in his hand as he reached over to grab the woman, but she danced around his hand, and instead kissed him on the cheek. My stomach stirred at the sight and tore my eyes away from the scene, only to realize that my hands were still gripped onto the steering wheels, shaking from anger. With a low growl, I tore them away, and proceeded to step out of my car.

As I was getting closer and closer to the beige house that appeared almost identical to every other house on the block, each movement became heavier, as if I was suddenly lugging around boulders. In my whole day, this was what I dreaded most. And it was all because of the man I called my father.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the woman I called my mom, but I couldn't stand the person she married. I always wondered how no one is able to see the underlying malice in him, because it was clear as day to Taylor and me. Yes, he didn't hold back on us when it came to his real nature, but even the best actors in the world shouldn't be able to cover up as well as he appeared to do so.

I stepped through the entrance of my house to see my mother bustling around the kitchen, and the man who was my sperm donor, sitting on the couch of the living room with his legs draped over the edge while watching the news channel. I sneered at the disgusting sight.

"Welcome home, Drake," my mother smiled as she placed a plate of spaghetti and meatballs on the dinner table, then leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.

A small smile tugged at my lips, "Hey Mom."

Before I could take the first step up the stairs to my room, the man in the living room cleared his voice loudly, a sign that he wanted to talk.

So much for wanting to avoid his presence.

I stopped in my tracks with my back facing him and waited for him to tell me whatever he wanted to say. I squeezed the strap of my backpack until my hand turned completely white. I couldn't stand looking at him, hearing him, or even breathing his air. The fact that I had his blood running through my veins made me want to tear myself apart. I have long promised myself that I wouldn't be anything like him.

"Look at me, boy. I'm trying to talk to you," his low raspy voice commanded sternly. I reluctantly turned around and stared at the familiar steel grey eyes that I thankfully did not inherit.

"Oh come on, talk later. Dinner's almost ready," my mother said cheerily, oblivious to the way her husband was staring heartlessly at her son.

The man smirked at me. "This will be real quick. I just need to talk to our son in the garage. We'll be back before you know it, sweetheart."

She contemplated for a few seconds before agreeing, "Alrighty, then."

I was seething. She just threw me ten feet under without even knowing.

"Well come on then, Drake. We're going to have a nice little chat, just between father and son," he said with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

I released my backpack by the staircase with a thump. "You're not my father," I spat and watched him fly off the couch.

He glanced at my mother's back before returning his attention to me. "She better have not heard that come out of your mouth you little piece of shit or you're going to wish you never breathed on this earth ," he whispered threateningly under his breath, then shot his arm out and dragged me to the garage that was located far from my mother, and the kitchen.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, my shoulder crashed against the wall of the dimly lit room. I winced at the sharp pain that was spreading through my right arm, making it immobile. "You do know I hate your existence, right?"

"Really? I couldn't tell." I tried to smirk at him, but it came out as more of a grimace.

His eyes glowered at me and threw a fist directed at me, but this time I was prepared. I grabbed onto his fist before it came into contact and shoved him backwards, watching in amusement when he stumbled a few steps back. "You can't use the same moves as you did when I was kid. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've grown up and can hold my own."

He was practically foaming at the mouth as he glared at me. "Yes, you've grown up. But I still have years and years of experience over you. Now I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm the chief of police for a reason."

"And I'm sure that reason isn't because of your sense of justice. You've thrown me and Taylor around for so many years. I'm so glad, no ecstatic, she isn't here anymore to face your fucked up ways. You'll only burn in hell for what you've done to me, and especially her."

Before I could react, he leapt in front of me and shoved his fingers around my throat. I managed to grin at him. His grip tightened. Was everything just going to end like this? At least I knew Taylor was safe now. "I never wanted kids. I never wanted you. Your existence is dirty. Disgusting. Who do you think you are? It was supposed to be just me and Mariah, but no, she insisted she wanted to have children. So what did I do? I agreed. I tolerated you in order to keep Mariah's happiness. You have no right to tell me what's right and what's wrong," he growled.

He dug his nails into my neck where the image of a dragon peeked out of the neckline of my shirt. I felt a warm liquid trickle down the base of my throat. And then he shoved me back against the wall before releasing his hold on me. I immediately gasped for oxygen. I was bent over whilst clutching my stomach. Dammit. Everything would have been so much easier if he killed me then and there. But then again, I couldn't let this son of bitch run wild with his claws aimed at everyone.

"Now, do you dare fighting back? I have the upper-hand over you. You can keep up the act, do whatever you want, ink yourself so more, but no matter what you do, you'll never be able to reach me."

I never wanted to reach you, I thought to myself. However, I just nodded, not wanting to get myself killed just yet. He can believe that I'm submitting to him all he wanted. For now.

At the right time, everything will come back to him ten-fold.

He stalked towards me like a predator. "So, tell me. why were you out so late?" He paused. "And do you happen to know any classmates who possess especially unique eyes at your school?"

I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. So now he cares about my life? And wants to know about the colors of other people's eyes?

An image of another guy in my grade flashed through my mind, but who was I to tell this man anything?

"I was just hanging out with some friends. But for the other question, are you suggesting that a high schooler committed a crime?"

"When did I say you can ask questions, Drake? Just answer the damn question," he said impatiently, thirsting for an answer.

"Then the answer is no," I smirked.

---------------------------------

Vote!

Comment!

Share!