Prompt #14

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                Prompt: If you get the chance could you do a conversion academy prompt where Pete (my baby) tells off his parents for drugging him up?

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                "No, no, NO!" Pete cried angrily, mashing buttons on his controller. "Oh, no, you bitch! Don't hook me in the basement!"

                "I'm leaving you to die," I said. "The exit gates are open. Every man for himself."

                "Kaz," he said, glaring at me. "You better go back for me."

                "Nope," I said, making my character run to the exit gates. "You didn't go back for me three games ago. I don't forget these things, Pete."

                I ran through the exit gates and watched Pete's death animation on his screen. He tossed his controller down with a scowl.

                "Let's go grab pizza. I'm hungry," I said, getting up.

                "I'll get you back for that," he warned.

                "No, you won't. Because now we're even," I said.

                Pete had invited me to spend the weekend at his house so we could game together. We used to have gaming weekends at the Academy, and the others were all busy this weekend anyways.

                We left Pete's room and went out to his kitchen. His mom was wiping down a counter while his dad sat at the counter. We grabbed paper plates and flipped open one of the pizza boxes that was in front of his dad.

                "We need a break from that game. I'm going to break my controller if I get caught by the killer one more time," Pete said, tossing two pieces of pizza onto his plate.

                "Peter, don't you dare break another controller," his dad, glaring at him. "We're not paying for a new one. You haven't broken a controller in a while."

                "Probably because I've been too drugged up to get pissed about losing," Pete shot back.

                "Losing shouldn't make you angry enough to break things," his mom said. "You did it when you were a little boy, too. You'd get so angry you'd just break anything you could get your hands on."

                "You did it even more whenever we told you not to," his dad said. "You like to do things you know you're not supposed to."

                "Will you shut up?" Pete said in irritation. "I get it, sometimes I break shit."

                "Like my back when you fell on me at the Academy," I said.

                I easily ducked out of the way of Pete's fist as he swung at me. After so long of dealing with Aaron's quick movements, Pete's slow, heavy swings were easy for me to dodge.

                "Peter!" his mom cried, glaring at him. "Stop it! You can't just hit people!"

                "Oh, will you shut up?" Pete snapped. He gave a sharp smile. "Kaz is probably happy I'm trying to beat the shit out of him."

                "Hey, don't bring me into this," I said. "I'm just here to play video games."

                But I was happy to see him like this. He was angry and dangerous and trouble, but he was free. His smiles were sharp, not forced euphoria. His eyes were clear and his words were always genuine. He was happier off his drugs.

                "Peter, stop it. You're being disrespectful again," his dad said.

                "Disrespectful?" Pete barked a laugh. "You drugged me. You drugged up your own damn son."

                "You were out of control!" his mom said. "Honestly, you hit your own father! We tried to get you under control. But after talking with professionals, they strongly believed you had a conduct disorder."


                "I don't care what professionals said. You had me on so many meds it damaged my memory and changed me," Pete snapped. "I'll never be the same as I was. I still forget things all the time. I forgot Kaz was coming this weekend two hours after we made the plans. I still don't have a driver's license because I was too drugged up to ever learn how to drive. You permanently damaged your own son, and you'd do it again in a heartbeat if you could. You know you would."

                "That's not true," his mom said, but her eyes wouldn't meet Pete's. "Pete, we were only thinking of your future. If you kept going at that rate, you would've gotten into legal trouble."

                "Kaz got into legal trouble but his mom didn't shove pills down his throat," Pete said.

                "I don't even like medication," I said.

                "Not the point. The point is that I'll never be the same, but that doesn't bother you," Pete said, glaring between his parents. "You hated me before the drugs, and you hate me now that I'm off them."

                "We never hated you," his dad said. "We hated your behavior. We could never hate you, Pete."

                "You had behavioral issues and then you added health issues on top of it," his mom said.

                "The side effects of my drugs made me need more drugs," Pete cried. "I needed pills to help me sleep, to ease my headaches, to help with my stomach problems. I don't want to hear your excuses. You were shitty parents, and fuck you for doing that to me. There were other ways, but you wanted the easiest way. Enjoy your damaged relationship with your damaged son. You'll never feed me another pill again, assholes."

                Pete grabbed my arm, flipped his speechless parents off, and dragged me out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom. He released my arm and slammed his door, locking it.

                "I didn't even get pizza," I said.

                "You're a thief and you couldn't even steal a piece of pizza?" he said.

                "I stole your dad's reading glasses," I said, tossing them onto Pete's dresser. "But I had nowhere to hide a slice of pizza."

                "They won't even come here to yell at me. They're afraid of me. They've always been afraid of me," Pete said bitterly, punching his door. "Just their angry, misbehaving son."

                "Aaron was a million times worse than you, and his dad loved him endlessly," I said. "Parents can surprise you, Pete. But what they did to you was wrong. I don't blame you for being angry. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave them for it."

                "I never got the chance to tell them off. I was too drugged up to care," Pete said, dropping onto his bed.

                "You needed to do it. They needed to hear the truth of what they did to you," I said, leaning against the wall and watching him. "Good for you, telling them off like that."

                "You attract angry people," he said, shaking his head. "Aaron, Mikayla, Beckett, me. How do you stay sane?"

                "Because your anger isn't all there is to you," I said honestly. "Yea, you're angry and you don't like to listen to rules. But you're still my old roommate who yells at me when I abandon him at video games and deal with my theft habits and buys me pizza."

                "Let's play another round," Pete said, picking up his controller. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen as I sat next to him. "Thanks, Kaz. You're a good guy."

                "So are you," I said. "Now let's kick some ass. This time I'll come back for you if you get caught."

                "I know you will," he said, and we turned out the lights to hide our smiles.

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