The Exam

Chapter 1: The Chart

There it was. That goddamn chart. Staring at him. Mocking him. Laughing at him. Reminding him every single time he went into the kitchen how much of a failure he was. How, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he would never be good enough. Nothing he ever did or said was ever good enough for her.

"Honey, are you alright?" Nicole asked walking into the kitchen.

Speak of the devil. Acting all sweet and kind and caring when they both knew all too well she couldn't care less about him. I mean, why would she? He hadn't done anything to deserve her love. He hadn't done anything worth a damm. He was nothing to her but a disappointment. A failure. A waste of space. A burden.

"Gummypuss?" She asked softly as she crouched down to his level and touched his shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You were standing there like you were staring into space."

"Yeah, I was just daydreaming, that's all."

She smiled and lightly chuckled."Off in your own world huh? I wish I had as lively imagination as you..."

He grinned. "Huh, yeah, your imagination must be pretty bad in your old age!"

"Oi, you cheeky little troublemaker!"

She chuckled and affectionately rubbed his head as she stood up.

His ears lowered slightly as he frowned.

Troublemaker...? Is that all she saw him as? A troublemaker? I mean sure he had caused his fair share of trouble around town, he, but a good majority of the time it was because he was trying to help someone. Because he genuinely cared about them and wanted them to be happy. Could she not see that?

"Honey?" She called out softly, noticing his reaction.

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? You seem upset."

"Oh, uhh, it's nothing."

He faked a smile.

"Are you sure?" She placed her paw on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Don't worry it's fine, honestly."

She hesitated not believing him and was about to push further before deciding it was best to leave it until he was ready to talk about it.

"Alright then, just know, you can tell me anything. I'm always here if you need a talk, okay?"

"I know. Thanks, Mom." He smiled genuinely and gave her a hug, which she reciprocated.

"Anyway, I need to do the washing up. You go and do whatever it is you boys do. Just don't get into any trouble!"

"I won't, I promise."

He turned left the kitchen and headed upstairs letting out a sigh.

He wanted to tell her, really he did, but he was just too scared of what might happen if he did. What if she confirmed what he already knew, that he was a disappointment to her, that she hated him, and he was nothing more to her than a useless, pathetic excuse of a son, o-or what if she just laughed it off, told him to just try harder, do better.

No, he couldn't tell her, or anyone else for that matter. He would just be mocked and ridiculed and made to feel even worse.

He entered the bedroom and sat on the bed with a sigh as his mind forced him to continue down this train of thought, forcing him to imagine this scenario, with a version of his family laughing at and mocking him for being so stupid and worthless and pathetic.

He held back tears as he cried out. "Stop it! Stop!"

They continued and he began to grow angry. He clenched his fist as tears streamed down his face and threw his pillow at the wardrobe as hard as he could. "STOP!"

Everything went quiet as his mind finally stopped tormenting him.

He sniffed and placed his face in his paws as he cried.

If only there were a way to prove her wrong...prove everyone wrong. Show them that he wasn't just the stupid kid who messes everything up.

But how?