Butchercup: My Amnesia Girl

Chapter 8

The pic has nothing to do with the story!😉

PS: I don't own PPG and RRB. I own the characters I make, and the plot I create.

PPS: Copy any of my books and I will stop writing! Seriously, please don't copy any of my stories!

Butch

You know how I always get in trouble years ago for what I did when I was a kid?

Well, I finally understood what my dads felt when they had to clean my mess.

"Blaze, put that down?!"

"You not my mama!"

Right now Blaze was running around holding one of Buttercup's picture frame. Ten minutes alone and he already starts misbehaving. And apparently, this kid knows how to blackmail. He really is my kid. No doubt about that.

On one hand I feel pissed of that I couldn't even control a two year old mini me, and on the other hand I couldn't help but feel proud that my kid knows how to blackmail at the age of two.

It has to be in the genes, considering my Buttercup would never teach a kid how to black mail. And yes, you heard me right! She is my Buttercup. No one can say otherwise!

.... Okay, maybe her dad, her sisters, and our son can say otherwise, but other than that I think it's safe to say that Buttercup is my girl. Any guy besides her dad and Blaze try to say otherwise will be given a free trip to the cemetery. If I'm in a good mood, I'll just give them a free trip to the hospital.

I'm getting off topic. I grabbed him, and took the picture frame away. He immediately starts squirming.

"Mama! Mama!" He started crying out loud. You know the feeling when your kid starts crying and you can't do anything to comfort him because he doesn't even like you? No? Then you must be a happy parent.

Its devastating to see my kid crying. Now put yourself in my shoes. Your kid hates you. He doesn't even know you. He wants you out of the house. He calls for his mom when he wants to feel loved. He doesn't even know what its like to have a father. To top it of, its all your fault. I repeat, devastating.

"Blaze, shhhhh, please stop crying."

He was crying like crazy. He started kicking and tried to make a grab for the photo. I stopped him and he cried louder. I looked at the photo I was holding in my other hand, and I immediately understood why he wanted it back. In the picture was Buttercup in a park with a baby in her hands.

Blaze...

She was smiling a genuine smile. A smile she used to have on whenever she saw me. She was hugging the baby Blaze like he was the most precious thing in the world. Baby Blaze looked like he was sleeping. Either that or he just closed his eyes at the same time they took the picture. Either way, he looked happy. Content even.

They looked like they were the happiest people on earth. And that hurts like a pile of bricks stuck on my throat and a dagger stabbing my heart.

They looked so happy without me. Even if Buttercup has amnesia, it still hurts that she looked like the world was right and perfect while I was dying in the other side of my world.