01 | The Father.

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This is a story of growth, of a young boy turning sixteen learning to let go of the demons of his past, of a young girl older and wiser far beyond her age teaching the boy a little something about sunshine and positivity--that being positive isn't about assuming childish ignorance to the darkness around you, but being alive in the moment and seeing things in a different perspective. 

Just like any teenage romance story, the boy haunted with demons realises that he's fallen in love with his mentor, his saviour, and his best and only friend. 

And it's all up to him, whether he decides to let her slip past his fingers,

Or for the first time in his life, hold a loved one closer to him than ever. He never did trust himself to hold anyone behind. 

A/N: guess who sucks at updating regularly ;) I've been writing this since May 2015 and I'm still stuck at the very beginning oh well. 

Thaddeus sat on the living room sofa, waiting and re-reading his book with the light on. Maybe it was pointless waiting, he thought. Will Dad even come back at all?  He decided that he would wait another 15 minutes, if not it'll be a forged signature and bed. It would not be the first time he forged one, anyway. 

Just as the 15 minutes was up, he heard the jingling of keys and the front door opened. In came his father, smelling strongly of beer, holding and kissing a scantily-dressed girl half his age. He single-handedly tried to close the door behind him. 

Thaddeus rolled his eyes in disgust and got up from the sofa.

"Sign this," Thaddeus said, handing his father a consent form and a pen.

It was already three in the morning. Thaddeus' parents had divorced when he was eleven. He was, rather unfortunately he thought, placed under his irresponsible father's custody. His mother, a top-notch doctor and a workaholic, had not bothered to visit him since the divorce took place five years ago. 

He never forgot her frown though; the way she pressed her lips to form a thin, disapproving line whenever she saw his unsatisfactory results.

"Despicable," Thaddeus' mother had even said on one occasion.

Still, living with his over-achieving mother was probably better than with his reckless father. He left Thaddeus to his own devices, waking up at noon for work and returning home only in the wee ours of the morning, arms wrapped around a girl picked off of who knows where.

Thaddeus' father tore his face away from the girl. He took the pen from Thaddeus, and signed the form. His face was overgrown with stubble and his eyes were bloodshot. Thaddeus wondered briefly where his fatherly figure had gone to. The thought itself hurt his brain.

"What's this about, eh?"Thaddeus' father asked, stumbling over his words. Thaddeus cringed and scrunched his nose at his father's breath; it reeked heavily of alcohol. 

"School stuff. I need your signature to go to the Art Museum tomorrow." The reply was not without spite, Thaddeus knew his father hardly cared about his whereabouts. 

His father nodded. He turned back to the girl and led her to his bedroom. Thaddeus averted his eyes at this gross sight, kept his form and went to bed, mind full of deliriously joyful and equally painful thoughts, indulging memories of his formerly intact family. 

As he drifted off to sleep in the last remains of his blurry recollections, a question lay unanswered in his brain. 

Why can't I be loved?





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