Chapter 2

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Tyson's POV

"GET DOWN HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!" I hear my father yell. Sighing, I put on a black shirt the hugs my body well and a pair of tight jeans. I have to be the model child after all.

"WHY CAN'T YOU BE NICER TO HIM?" I hear my mom ask.

"BEACUSE HE IS NOT MY SON!" my father yells. That one always hurt.

"THEN WHY DID YOU ADOPT HIM IF YOU WERE GOING TO TREAT HIM LIKE THIS?" my mom yells back. Sighing again, I decide to go downstairs.

While walking, I think about my life before the Bent family took me in. When I was about 8, I was thrown out of my old house just because they couldn't afford me. I had to live on the streets living off of dustbins and money I got from begging just to live. I was forced to live like that for 6 months and even before that I lived in a caravan.

After those 6 months of living on the streets, a bunch of social workers found me and put me up for adoption, and that is when the Bent family took me in. My mom always loved me and cared for me but my father never did. He only adopted me to raise his family name.

I love my mom and my little brother, Jared. They never make me feel left out. They always include me in everything. They know the jerk I pretend to be at school is not me. They know the real me. They love the real me.

"I WANT A DIVORCE!" my mom yells and I freeze on the last step. They never talked about a divorce. Not until now.

"Wh-What?" I hear father says, or more like stammers.

"I think you heard me," mom says. The weird thing is that she sounds like she has thought a lot about it.

"NO!" father shouts, sounding aggravated.

"Yes, we are. I've had enough of you constantly putting down my son. He may not be a son to you, but he's a son to me and I will not live in this house if you're going to treat my son like that. I've already got the papers," mom says.

I hear footsteps and see Jared next to me. There are tears in his eyes that make my heart break because it's my fault he's not going to have a father. My fault. My fault.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, looking at anything but his face.

"Why should you be sorry? We're finally getting rid of him," he says.

"It's my fault you now don't have a father. I'm sorry," I say, finally looking at him.

He smiles slightly and says "He never really was our father though, was he?"

He's smart for a 12 year old, my brother. He's got blue eyes, from father, and blonde hair, from mom. He looks good but doesn't flaunt it. I'm forced to because that's who father wants me to be. It's always what he wants, never us.

At that moment, mom and father both come out of their bedroom. They both stop when they see us.

"This is YOUR FAULT!" Father bellows, pointing a finger at me.

"This is NOT his fault. This is your fault and yours alone!" my mom says, glaring at father.

She then turns to us and says "Why don't you both go to school?" I know this is just her saying she doesn't want us to see the fight that is bound to happen, so I take Jared's hand and pull him out.

While we enter the car and our driver, Albert, drives us to school, Jared asks "Do you think they'll go through with the divorce?"

I sigh and look at my little brother. I don't want to tell him about how serious mom's expression was when she walked out of the bedroom, so instead I ask "Do you want them to?"

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