Prisoner of Circumstance | ✔️

12 | Resolution

TWELVE - Resolution

I had a brother... wait, scratched that. I had a twin brother. A living, breathing someone that I shared a womb with somewhere out there in the world living their life.

I am a fucking twin.

There was someone that fucking shared a god damn connection with me and I was deprived of it all. And for fucking what? What was the end game to it all? Why do some people have to be so cruel? So heartless? And what shutters my barely existing emotional vitality is the fact that I had, not only one but two brothers that I never knew of. Two of them. And I was forced to live my life alone and lonely, raised as an only child in a family filled with greed, deceit and blood.

And at what cost?

I had been a lot of things in my short life. I was a best performer throughout my school career. Never had I ever fell back on anything that I set my mind to. I was the captain of the Rugby team for two darn years. I was the president of the students representative council. I was the son of one of the richest assholes in Swakopmund if not the whole country. I was what you would call 'the epic representation of a golden boy'. And that's not mentioning it all; but my point was, everything I was, it wasn't a mistake. It was all meticulously planned to achieve something bigger then me. Something I too was very afraid to think much less dream of because that's how big, gigantic, humongous my dream was. My dreams were bigger then me, bigger then my father, bigger then anyone and all I ever wanted was to live it all, bask in the glory but one single move and my life derailed... and I lost it all. Like, Checkmate!

Then the downward spiral begun, every puzzle piece I put together falling apart seam by seam. Everything I fought so hard to built, crashed into what I couldn't even recall. Everything I ever wanted lost in the cracks, nowhere to be found. Everything I craved—strived to be withered away.

It was dawn, it was time.

I couldn't live my life like this no more. This wasn't the life I chose for myself. This was everything I fought so hard not to be. But yet, here we were. That was where I found myself, squeezed under the weight of all the bullshit... And I repeat this again; I needed a reason to keep fighting, to keep pushing, swim back to the shore because I was drowning  in it all. A reason to make it all my last call. To make it all meaningful and worthwhile before I crashed. But there was none, nowhere to be found.

If anything I was only left with cataclysmic bullshit I didn't start that was bringing my life to ruins. And it only took nine words out of my mother's mouth.

"Your father and I are getting a divorce Xander." She'd said.

And that's how it all started. That's how I became everything I never wanted to be, accused of crimes I never committed. If anything, the only crime I committed that night was listening to that bitch...

It was that time of the day again. The daily ritual I detested with all my body fiber. Detested it with all my whatever million cells that made up my molecular structure. But it's not like there was something I could do because I tried it all. Each and every one of them in the Alexander Kegel's playbook but none of it work.

I was barely existing to them.

When I heard my name followed by a crash of something in the distance, muffled by the thick walls, I knew and like always, I didn't want any part of whatever they were fighting about.