Within You

Nothing Stays

(Y/n) never thought he'd see the day his mother stopped smiling... and yet there she was. He stared down at that blank face, a face devoid of color and warmth. It sickeningly reminded him of the fairytales she used to read him.

The doctors weren't really sure what had happened. One moment, she was fine... and the next, she was ill. That illness had taken her life.

(Y/n)'s father gently squeezed his hand, holding him as if he were still a child. (Y/n) accepted the comfort. Physically, he may have been eighteen, but mentally? (Y/n) was no older than fourteen within his mind.

Things were quiet for a while after the funeral. (Y/n) hardly spoke to his father, and his father hardly spoke to him. Then, about two months later, his father brought a woman home.

She was a lovely woman, kind and caring. (Y/n) hated her. She was someone new, and new people are often horrible news.

She was married to his father within the week. That development only made (Y/n) hate her more. She mothered his half-sister, and she wanted him to call her "mom."

(Y/n) had vowed that he would die before he could so much as mouth the revolting word.

Soon enough, they had packed up and left the home he had grown up in, homeward bound for the town his stepmother was from. His father was no longer a pushover, refusing to hear any protests his only son had to offer.

(Y/n)'s life from then on could only be described as his own personal hell. For once in his life, he had chores to do. He would be in charge of his half-sister most nights, forced to listen to her wailing while he tried to figure out what she wanted. He hated her because of that.

He wanted nothing more than for things to go back to how they once were... instead, he could only find sweet solace in his books and mindless fantasies.