Stealth. (FtM Karl)

An unfortunate development

Triggers:
-deadnaming
-transphobia

There are three stages to all types of storms.

The first stage, development. The creation and the beginning of a storm, the time people all prepare for and are warned about in advance so to take cover or pack up and run.

But this wasn't the type of storm you get a warning for, this was one that Karl would never see coming.
Coming out of nowhere with malicious intent towards his life.

He was not ready.

The echoing rings of the school bell echoed throughout the halls, a sound that all students immediately perked up after hearing its sweet tune of freedom.
Many of their faces brightened as they immediately detected the meaning behind the sound.
The end of the day.

Karl looked at the clock, glad his day was finally over. He, along with every other student in his class, began to take their pots and brushes over the the sink and tidy the classroom before eventually taking their bags and leaving after their teacher had dismissed them.

Knowing full well that none of his friends were still in school and had all gone home, he walked straight out the building and out to the entrance.

It was when he reached the front gates that his feet froze.

He couldn't move a muscle, not yet. He stared into the eyes of danger. Ones he hoped he could avoid forever.
The sweet sweet honeymoon phase of freedom was over within seconds as they locked eyes for a moment.

He scanned the area in-front of him, the car behind so clearly familiar he was suprised he hadn't seen it sooner.
The man in-front of him stepped forward, his face showing no signs of empathy, regret or glee. Only anger with an ounce of spite.

It felt like all of Karl's reality had shattered in that very moment. The caring, accepting, comfortable reality he had nurtured. Snapped and cracked, broken into thousands of un-mendable, tiny, minuscule little pieces.

"What the hell do you want?" He glared at the older, warning him not to come any closer, keeping his tone steady and stern.

"Come home. Now." He commanded, pointing at the car behind him, "this little teenage rebellion of yours has gone on long enough. Your mother called, and she's worried sick." He  scowled.

Karl analysed his every word, his facial expressions, his movements. Keyword? "She". He isn't even doing this for his own benefit.
He's doing it for her.
Sometimes he forgot just how much more power his mother really possessed over his father, he could appear like such a kind woman at times. But her soul was rotten.

Karl's pov Cus I accidentally changed it whilst writing somehow:

"No." I declined, trying to sound authoritative as I turned on my heels and started to walk away in the direction of school. I screamed mentally at my own actions, thanking my body for finally allowing me to move, yet also scolding myself for possibly making the situation worse somehow.

"Kira-"

"Shut. Up." I spat, immediately pivoting to once again face him, I stared dead into his eyes. He looked almost shocked by my reaction. It felt great, seeing his face look stunned by his own sons actions, someone he used to have so much power over.
But now it was my turn.
"Shut the fuck up right now." I repeated, "you will not do this to my in public. Not at my school. Not infront of my peers. And never will you ever do this infront of my friends." I warned, trying to be quiet enough that nobody around would hear, yet loud enough to get the point across.

"I am Karl." I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time this year, "my name isn't Kira, dad. It's Karl. And you can't change that no matter how much you convince yourself otherwise. I am your son." I spoke confidently. The feeling was weird. The words kind of just flowed out in jumbled messes, I couldn't process properly what I was saying as reoccurring thoughts and everything I had always wanted to say to him decided this was the best time to reveal themselves.

"I'm staying at my friends house, I'm fine by the way thanks for asking" I added sarcastically, the man hadn't seen me in almost two weeks and his first words to me are "come home, now"?. I don't think so.

"Don't do this to me" he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "why do you always do this to me?"

'There he goes playing the victim card again' I assumed. Growing up with the guy, I knew all his tactics.
"Do what?"

"Make me look like a bad father in public?!" He whisper yelled, though the few students felt were rather far away, everyone else had gone home or just somewhere close by.
"I'm just trying to take you home, and you're making me seem like the bad guy! I don't understand what I did wrong?? I'm just trying to help you get better..."

"Get better?" I scoffed, "get better???" I raised my voice a little more, "what the hell do you mean 'get better'??"

"I mean that you clearly need help." He answered calmly, taking a step towards me, "and if you'll let me, I'd like to take you to a therapist or a psychiatrist of some sort to help you with that."

"If you want to help me then be a better father!" I snapped, glaring daggers at him, hoping a bus would turn off course and hit him, hoping that I could somehow unlock the ability to compress him into a speck of dust with just my thoughts.
I wanted him to disappear.

"What is going on here?" A voice behind me called, followed by the sounds of tips and taps from said ladies heels.
As she approached me from behind, I could hear her muttering under her breath.

"You." My father raised a brow, folding his arms and resting his weight on one leg, "I remember your voice."

"Ah yes. Karl's father, I presume? Yes I remember you, you're a rather childish man aren't you." She scoffed, "I suggest you leave the premises of the school before I report you to the proper authorities." She threatened.

It was clear he had no intention of getting into that kind of trouble today and so he turned around grumpily and sat in his car, slamming the door behind him before driving off.