Over the years me and my parents had never gone out traveling, or done anything fun.
(T/N) - my dad - had taught me ninjutsu ever since I was five, but never really let me go to explore the worlds by myself. I knew why, because we usually have one of those cozy nights when I ask my dad or mom to tell me some stories of the outside world. I don't know if they're making all of those things up or telling me the truth, but I always choose to believe them.
I've never gone to school, had any friends or even had the chance to see something outside of my own window. But I was actually fine with that. Because after seeing my father's scars that he had all over his body and shell, I couldn't trust the people in this world anymore - except my parents.
When I said I had no friends, I was actually lying about that. My friend is my (W) (Weapon., Like katana or Sai). I fought with it and protected myself from evil with it. My weapon, is my childhood friend. It's always there when I need it, it always saves me from danger and It has never failed with protecting me. I've been in fights with my dad sometimes, but only for training so I don't yet know if I will be able to trust my friend out in the big world. But honestly, I don't think I'll ever want to leave this place.
Now that can not be true as well.
Because this cozy house is my home as much as my prison. I was born with green skin and a shell, that makes me a mutant like my dad. And according to my mom, not every person out there will treat me nicely. I don't trust her, because when I look at her and dad, everything she had told me sounded like nothing she had shown me. I saw a big difference between her and my dad's actions and her words. I can't trust her at all times, and that's about 50% of the time I hear her talk about the human world.
I can't help but think sometimes; What if I prove my parents wrong? Will they stop talking about the world being a horrible place, and let me out of the house? Because the closest I've ever been to the city is by looking at it from the forest.
"Be careful! You can fall down from there!" Mom yelled at me and pulled me away from the open window on the second floor as soon as she saw me leaning out of it. All I wanted was fresh air, but her over protective instincts pulled me away from the opportunity to actually know what it feels like to breathe.
I turned around to face her and yelled at her before she walked away.
"Can't you at least let me breathe, by myself for once?"
She instantly stopped in her tracks and turned around to face me. Her face showed worry and shame, and at that point even my dad showed up in the doorway. The same facial expression on his face as my mother.
"You both never let me do anything!" I explained with a loud voice that nearly started cracking at the end because I was soon in tears. I went right to the point as well, and my own words seemed to hurt me. Okay, well. They did.
I shook my head to get myself together and continued talking before they could say anything. It's always been like this. I start an argument about going out and they never let me finish talking.
"I want to see the world just like it is. I don't care how I will be treated by the people out there, I just want to get a chance to talk to somebody and maybe feel like I'm alive for a moment. Can't you let me go for a few hours?" I explained. My words made both my parents open their mouths and look at me. The last sentence I made my knees shaky. I felt like jelly. Like melting or boiling jelly.
They looked at each other before leaving without any words. I got the message that they would talk about it, and gave up with saying anything more. When my mom closed the door, I let hot tears stream down my face, and went over to the window.
After opening it again, I let my torso hang over it and took deep breaths of fresh air. I didn't care if it was freezing outside, I didn't care if my parents would see me from the bottom floor and yell at me again.
All I want is to breathe
Downstairs Your P.O.V
(T/N) and I had never seen our son so upset.
He seemed to be completely out of his mind. But we couldn't blame him.
It wasn't until his words came out that we understood that just because we had our experiences and seen the world from our perspective, we can't hold him inside in this house for ever. He is a kid that want to go and explore the world. He want to let his soul fly like a bird that just got out of it's cage.
I remembered the first time my parent's let me out of my home for the first time. I felt free, and alive. And I was only 8 then. My dear son is 15 that the moment.
He want to see some things for himself
He needs to see some things for himself
"Honey...look" (T/N) suddenly said and pointed to the biggest window. I walked towards it and looked closer. The sight outside wasn't pretty.
I could see my son from above, taking deep breaths and crying his eyes out. His tears became sparkling snowflakes because of the cold wind outside and his green skin was almost turning blue because of the temperature.
I wanted to rush over upstairs and at least cover him with a blanket. But before I could, (T/N) stopped me and looked at me with worried eyes.
"Don't. You'll only upset him even more" He explained. I looked at him and my son back and forth a few times before chocking out a few words.
"He'll get sick."
"So what? When was the last time he was sick? When was the last time he even felt ill?"
(T/N) was right. Every time winter came by, our son has always been kept inside from the cold weather because of how protective we were. I always felt horrible for keeping him inside this hell that I call home.
"I guess you're right." I said and watched as my son lifted his hand up to collet snowflakes. I didn't even notice them falling.
"Our little world is too small for his heart. Don't you think so?" (T/N) breathed out and put his arm around my waist while leaning on the window frame. All I could do was nod and almost cry. How could I ever let this happen to my baby boy?