Dark Destinies- Clare Siobhan (Fanfiction) Magical Generation

Chapter Fifteen- Strong

When you are born into this world, you are forced to accept and adapt to your surroundings.  It doesn't matter if you are blessed or not, what your home looks like, the way society is built: society will want to build you in turn.  Based on the way you look, the blood in your veins, even your mistakes.  They are your mistakes, but they will take them use them against you.

Your past will be judged and sculpted into a future you can't escape from.  So how much can we control and decide for ourselves?

Not everyone is blessed with the face of an angel, a complete family, even something as simple as love.  Aren't we all deserving of love?  Of a childhood?

So then why is it that some of us are robbed of memories?  People in death?  The right to decide our lives?

The right to decide who I want to be.

What must I do to gain this freedom?  To break the chains of expectations of staying strong?

I'm not broken, not yet.  But the world expects me to be.

I'm just dented from trying to break out of this box the world put me in.  Banging against these walls are bound to bruise me in some way.  And the chains holding me back are my regret.

I'm alive.

The hunky blond walks up to the door, using a cold veined hand to turn the knob and enter the room.  A golden glow faintly lights the large room and is brightly outshined by the large screen's white light.  The luminous white outlines a man sitting on his desk, facing the doorway.  Shapes and colours from the screen rim his glasses, he seems too immersed in his work to hear his arrival.  Cain makes out his father's hunched silhouette with the light streaks.

The sound of the closing door is what diverts Seth's focus, his head peaks over the screen.

"Cain, is that you?"

Pink hues raise to meet his; wrinkles and a frail complexion etched into his father's aging features.  The light from the screen only defines these more.  His scattered freckles have grown in number as elderly marks had started to appear on his folded skin.  Streaks of silver possess his once jet-black hair.  It now gleamed in a new way.  "Come in.  I'm just finishing up some work with this logo design,"

"Okay," Cain hums as he approaches and lays a heavy hand on his father's shoulder, an ironically reliable pat.  "Is this one new?"

"Yeah, a new company in town needed some new graphic work done,"

"Looks great, Dad," Cain words carefully.  He needs his father relaxed if he is going to get any information out of him.  Seth replies by gently laying a frail hand on his.  

It was working.

The wood creaks under him as Cain shifts his weight to one leg, the other crossed casually. He pretends to be immersed in the screen in front of him, but his mind is elsewhere; far, far away.

It found it's self there a long time ago.

"I was talking to Mel earlier," 

Seth chuckles to himself, lowering his gaze to add final touches to his work with the flick of a pen.  The old man looked thin, like too sweet jam spread on too much bread. Even his smile looked like it took a toll on the energy he had left.

"Any updates on his little Harry Potter theories?"

"Well yes," he chuckles charmingly, the weariness in his voice slipping out ever so slightly. "I don't know if those are theories necessarily,"  This gains Seth's attention as he rubs his nose with the back of his hand.  "I mean... who knows?" I do.