Chapter 56 - Truth (Brennan Conrad POV) Pt.2

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Chapter 56 – Truth (Brennan Conrad POV) Pt.2

There were a few things my parents always tried enforce – things that they wanted us to remember and live true that way as well. With our animal nature by age fourteen our hormones and sexual needs make themselves known.

"Just because you have the urges does not mean you have to act and follow them. That is what separates us from true animals," my father had lectures us repeatedly.

"Your emotions are running wild, at the drop of a hat you're ready to respond, act, using anger to drive you," I recall each scenario used. "Again, it is possible to control your animal nature, it will always be a battle, wanting to give yourself over to the unexplainable rage. Keeping the fury restrained means knowing and actively deciding the type of person you want to be."

Mom and dad always found ways to give us little lectures that really felt more like mini pep talks. They were not joking but they also wouldn't sit us down in a group and lecture us unless we had all teamed up and carried out some half thought out plan.

As close knit as we were it was also easy to note the lessons that had been passed down from my grandparents to my parents, aunts and uncles.

"Fools with little self control lash out at anyone, someone stronger, taller, shorter, faster, it didn't matter... what advantage or status the other individual holds. Fools will act first, think later."

That said, my siblings and I were far from the most self-controlled. At times we were as reckless as any parent would hate. We'd shout and yell back, but it never went far only infuriating us much more because mom and dad never sunk to our level. They never lashed out when clearly we wanted a fight and it didn't matter with whom.

After the lashing out came that settling period where not only did we gather our senses but also it came with guilt because we had been nasty towards them.

Strangely one would think that after experiencing the tumultuous cycle that we'd stop but even a few months back I found myself in that same mellowed out mood with regret. "You're young, you're learning adult self-control," mom would say after I apologized.

All of that said; not once have I ever lashed out physically at any adult. I mean maybe when I was a toddler and threw a tantrum, but not any time I could recall.

On top of that, never once had I physically lunged for any adult with the type of craze Devin just had my grandfather. I stood stunned that she had the galls to do such a thing, even more taken aback that Antone is able to stand and grab Devin, spinning her around until he was holding her arm behind her back at an odd – near breaking – angle.

She attacked Antone? My mind registered the sight before in an almost slowed down version.

"Calm yourself child, you'll only cause yourself injury," he warned composed. Panting, resisting his hold, Devin continues to kick about, her foot swiping the table, sofa, throw pills, everything they can reach. In place my mouth drops open as I watch her fight, tears flowing, but her cries are more growling than sobbing.

"This. Is. All. Your. Family's. Fault," she grits out angrily again, "You left us behind!" Devin fights, gasping when because of her own relentless squirming her shoulder is a few seconds from being popped out of it's socket.

How? I ask myself. How in the hell had I missed this side of Devin? Where was this girl the last five years? I thought she was perfect, supporting, kind, and just fun to be around. I felt light in her presence. Sure she was a bit picky and whatnot but I could handle that. We had far more in common than we didn't. And that was not an act. Or I do not believe it too be?

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