Maybe I am just not enough

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As her eyes fall on Aiden, her hold on me relaxes. I take in a large breath as I remember how to breathe again. She stares at Aiden for a few more minutes before releasing me and running to him. She takes him in her arms as she rocks back and forth, whispering,

"My son. Oh my beautiful son."

My heart breaks to the point that all is left is ashes of a once joyful heart. This is when I lose myself. This is when a part of me died. As I look at the sight in front of me, my mom hugging Aiden after almost killing me, I realise that the more effort I make, the less I will be rewarded.

I spent sleepless nights, crying and studying, to make mom happy. I lost friends and my sanity. I did everything for her to look at me like she looks like Aiden-proud glinting in her eyes.

But no.

As Aiden catches my eyes, I see the guilt and worry in his own. I stare at my reflection in the mirror opposite of me, with tousled black hair and tears rolling down my eyes.
I didn't realise that I started crying. Blood stains my white shirt.

I'm so pathetic.

I close my eyes. I will never feel like this again. I will not let another person break my heart as such an extent. My emotions will now be just an afterthought. Never, will I ever love someone so much.
Because no freaking good things ever happen to someone who opens their heart for the people they love.

Oh, messed up world, what have you done to me? How can you be so heartless and hurt people like that?

Father comes in rapidly with the police. I am confused as I stare at my mom being forcefully taken away. I scream and shout and punch and break things.

Mother, Mom, momma. It's my fucking mother for hell's sake! Is it so impossible to let be people be happy?
That's the last I see of her for years as she is locked in the asylum.

And that's the last I see of myself.

_______________________________________________

Six years ago

"Father. I don't want to do this. I cannot do this," I try to keep my voice firm, but I hear the wobble in it.

My eyes sting with tears that are trying very hard not fall out. I hold my straight position as I stare into his dark eyes, reminding much of my own. A reminder that I am his. A reminder that I am destined to be just like him.

A psychopath. A murderer. Powerful. Feared.

H.e.a.r.t.l.e.s.s.

I can taste the hatred I feel towards my dad on my tongue. I bite it so hard, blood surges out of it. I gulp everything so that Father doesn't notice, or else I will be beaten.

He smiles a slowly and evilly, sending shivers down my spine.
I hate it when he does that. Nothing good ever follows. Nothing is ever good around him.

It is like he carries Satan with him. I hate Satan. I hate my Father. I hate, hate, hate that I feel so fucking helpless.
Father approaches me and he comes so close to me that I can feel his alcohol breath.

I hate alcohol too. Dad is even worse after drinking. He tortures and murders people.

His voice is cold as he says, "Weak. You are weak son. I didn't raise you to be so fragile. It is just a simple task. One of the easiest tasks I have ever assigned to anyone. You just need to get crucial information out of an old man by...encouraging him a little. And if he refuses to tell you anything...well he you kill him. I agree, this must be the hard part, but hey! Believe in yourself..it is surely not impossible."

I want to puke. How can someone be like this? How can someone be so neutral about someone's life. How many times have he done this before? I am just thirteen for life's sake!

If mom would have be here...

I cut off my thoughts. I remember how mum pushed me away. How she claimed Aiden as her son and not me.. how I was not wanted by her.
Maybe I am just not enough. Maybe I never will be. I never will be.

___________________________________

He played it the hard way. But apparently not for him, but for me. Because he seemed to want to die, and I didn't want to be killed. He didn't hate me. He didn't cry or even scream.
He called me son, and the name rolling out of his tongue seemed more like a father's than that of my own.
I felt loved. He cared about me. He was concerned more about me than he was for himself.

"Oh, son. It may be hard to believe, but you always have a choice. You don't have to do this. You don't have to ruin your life. Be strong. Face your dad dear boy. Don't make the same mistakes I did."

And I shot. I shot this man who trusted me with his life. Who tried to stop me from doing something I would regret. And now I feel like I'm falling from the highest peak in the milky way.

And now, I hate myself more than ever. I watch his dead body fall to the ground with a loud thud, disbelief in his eyes. His greying hair enclose his thin and tired face. His once warm brown eyes lose all their light as the cool stare of death settle in them.

I fall to the ground next to him, grabbing my chest and knees and shaking uncontrollably. Tears soak my shirt as I wipe them away with extreme force.

I did this. I killed this man. This man who called me son. Who wanted me to make the right choice. I betrayed him. I am so cruel. I am a fucking monster.

As the tears cease, I catch a glimpse of something in the man's hands. I pull a piece of paper from his bony and dry fingers with much difficulty. He is keeping this safe even in the arms of death.

I don't hesitate before opening the paper and reading its content.
And then my head is spinning.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○
Eniallim Eyaf is in danger.
○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

______________________________________

Author's note: So I know this story is getting quite depressing but it is just the beginning. There's school so the updates are taking some time. But just co,,ent your opinions and recommend it to friends<3
You can even give me ideas and ask for dedications.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 26 ⏰

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