[✓] dangerous sarcasm → spookyface

CHAPTERFIFTYSEVEN

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

The air was cold and dead when the brunet walked through the door of his house, the small space seemingly empty. Spooky had dropped him off, it was 4 PM. He sighed, hand on the railing to go upstairs before he was stopped. The red eyed boy dropped his bag at the step.

"Hey, boy."

His father was sitting at the kitchen table, glass of water in his hands and eyes lifeless. He was sober.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

Hesitantly, Blurryface stepped down and made his way slowly to his parent, a small scowl on his face. He hated his father. He was mean, cold, alcoholic and he didn't give a shit about any of his family. He had insomnia, putting himself in a grouchy mood seemingly all the time. He was heartless, and Blurry couldn't stand him. He didn't know how anyone could.

The boy's scowl dropped when he realized he was growing into a pure image of his father.

Blurry sat down slowly, eyes set on his father's grey face. White eyes, grey hair, skin so pale that it was grey as well. Blue lips and giant eye bags.

"So," his father licked his lips, "how long has this whole gay thing been going on?" The man's voice was gravely and cracked, set in a deep octave.

"I'm not gay," the red eyed boy responded.

"Wouldn't this boyfriend of yours say otherwise? Or are those markings on your neck just for show? What's he do, give you AIDS last night?" he spat. Blurryface shrank in his chair, hand defensively covering his neck, the stained black shades matching with each other. His face contorted into one of disgust, blinking at his father with a frown on his face.

"Why do you care all of the sudden?" the brunet muttered.

"Because I didn't go through all of this shit to raise a fag."

Blurryface barked out a laugh. It was threatening, but nothing compared to his father's demeanor. "You fucking hypocrite!" he sneered. "You've never given a single damn about me. You didn't go through anything at all for me! Now all of the sudden, you're upset because you couldn't stop me from what—being gay? I'm not even gay, so shut the fuck up! You know nothing about me!"

"Don't argue with me, son."

"No, I'm going to fucking argue!" Blurryface screamed. "You don't do shit for me, you never have! You have absolutely no say in how I'm raised because you never did raise me! All you are is a drunk piece of shit! So what do you care if I have a boyfriend or whatever the fuck? You don't care at all, you fucking can't! Nobody in this family fucking cares about me at all except for your wife, and I'm not even her child!"

"You shut your mouth right now before I slap you, boy!" His father was standing, towering over Blurryface as he leaned. The brunet was fuming, eyes a fiery and alarming red as he huffed.

"Go ahead," he sneered, "slap me. See what that does to you when Caroline comes in. She'll have the police called in two seconds." The boy stepped back, out of his father's shadow as he turned around.

"Faggot," the man whispered in return.

"Cunt!" Blurry yelled back, running up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door behind him. His breath was heavy and labored, a block in his lungs as he tried to inhale.

Sinking down onto the floor, his breath dropped, and he cried.

AUTHORS NOTE

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