Dhmis Short Stories Fanfiction (mostly about yellow guy)

am I good enough for you? (part 1)

(The whole story takes place in Roy's POV)

Tw: concepts of physical, mental, emotional, and verbal abuse

Ever since I got married, I've dreamt of having kids who'd bring me success. The type of child who would someday will make me proud, bear my properties, and be a living representation of their father. I've never been even more excited once my wife, Lesley, shows me her pregnancy results, which is positive.

One day, I came across a fortune teller. That time, I had Lesley with me and she's currently 4 months pregnant with our son. The fortune teller, instead of crystal ball, uses tea and a teacup. I was intrigued to try and have our future read but Lesley was unamused.

"Fortune tellers are fake and silly," scoffed my wife. "Why risk it?"

I let her explore a nearby shop so I could have some time with the fortune teller. Without Lesley's knowledge, I used some of the money we have to pay the fortune teller.

"You have such a lovely pregnant wife," complimented the fortune teller.

"Sure she is," I replied. "By the way, may I know what kind of son my wife is bearing would be?"

"Right away."

The fortune teller brews tea. While waiting, I kept hoping that she would see in the future that my son would become a smart and responsible young man and would make me proud. Soon, the tea cup was emptied except for the black powder remains. She stirs them and does some reading that I couldn't understand.

"What did you see?" I asked curiously.

"I see 2 human figures. One is tall, the other short," said the fortune teller. "Oh it's shifting! It's shifting! The tall one now looks bent. While the short one...I think I already know what this means."

"What does it mean? What does it mean?!"

The old woman clears her throat. "Your son will be the opposite of your expectations. He won't be as intelligent as you want him to be and he won't have the skills that you want him to be good at. In other words, he'll be your disappointment."

No! This can't be! From that day on, I've decided that from the time my son is born, I must shape and discipline him into the kind of person I want him to be. If he's going to a disappointment, I'm not letting that happen. Whatever he do, he must follow the path I created for him so that he becomes the perfect son.

Few years after my son, Manny, was born, that fortune teller's prediction came true. Manny is indeed being the opposite of the expectations I set on him. This is why I couldn't stop myself from disciplining him as hard as possible. He cries whenever I do that, which is pretty clear he doesn't know I'm doing it for his own good.

"I-I'M SO SORRY D-DADDY!" he cried as I hit him with my belt.

A piece of paper of his quiz from school, which was marked C by the teacher, lies on the floor. I would've been so proud of Manny if only that damn C was A. Or better, A+. But those didn't happen. The C on his test paper brings hatred as it reminds me of how much of a disappointment Manny is.

"HAVENT YOU ALREADY PROMISED ME TO DO BETTER IN SCHOOL BEFORE?!" I asked furiously.

Manny nodded while trying to wipe those never-ending stupid tears off his face.

"WELL NOW EXPLAIN WHY YOUR SCORE IS C INSTEAD OF A!"

"B-because..." he could hardly speak because he's being a fucking crybaby and he won't stop crying. "Because t-the quiz is...t-too hard."

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU DID NOTHING BUT DRAW INSTEAD OF STUDYING!" I yelled while I whack him again with my belt.

Bond papers filled with Manny's drawings were scattered everywhere in this damn house. I wanted to throw them away or burn them because they're fucking litters but Lesley disagrees, saying I should treasure our son's drawings no matter how bad they are. She nags me whenever I oppose her and I'm tired of hearing her insulting a man like me so I was left to no choice but to follow what she said and keep the stupid drawings.