Whispers After Dark

Chapter 16

 You know what, god? I'm sick and tired of everything. I'm tired of being logical. I'm tired of being caring. I'm tired of being responsible. Every damn orphanage we go to, it's the same story. I get my hopes up, thinking maybe, just maybe, this will be the place where we finally belong. The place we can call home. But no, it's always the same disappointment, the same rejection, the same feeling of being unwanted.

Why did you have to take my parents from me? They were good people, kind and loving, and they deserved so much better. I should've given them the world. I was just a kid, for crying out loud! I needed them, and you ripped them away from me without a second thought. What did you give them? Nothing but pain. To be taken from me in that tragic accident. To be burned alive. Trapped. Unable to escape. To watch me leave them stranded in that house. You left them hopeless. Did you even care? Did you even think about what it would do to me, to lose the only family I had left? Curse you, god.

I've been trying so damn hard to protect Emily, to be the big brother she needs, but you turned her away from me. It feels like every step I take is a step closer to failure. You tore us apart, separated us. My little angel that I kept safe from the world. My sweet little sister. You turned her against me. You made her vulnerable. You did this. Curse you, god.

And now, on top of everything else, the damn drug operation. Why did I have to figure out about it? Why me? God, why couldn't it be anyone else? Why must I go through this?

What did I do to deserve this? What sin did I commit that makes you punish me like this? I've read about people out there, living happy lives, with loving families and homes to call their own. And here we are, bouncing from one damn orphanage to another, hoping that maybe this time will be different, only to be let down again and again. You give me false hope, and right before I can settle down on it, you swipe it from under me and rip it apart in front of my eyes. You laugh at me, showing me people with happy lives and caring parents as if to tell me that I would never have that. Their joy will never be mine, and all I can do is watch as they share an affectionate bond, and hope and pray to you that one day a family will accept me. That they won't hate me like the rest. Like they won't reject me.

You know, they say you have a plan for everyone, that everything happens for a reason. I'm sick of waiting for that reason. I'm sick of trying to find some deeper meaning in all of this pain and suffering. I'm tired of being patient. It's bullshit, and I'm done with it.

So you can take your plan, and shove it. I don't need it, and I don't need you. You've taken enough from me, and I won't let you take anything else. After all, what more is there to take? I'll protect Emily and myself, with or without your help. And if that means going against your so-called plan, then so be it. Curse you, god.

I'm done praying, done hoping, done waiting for some miracle to come and save me. I'm on my own now, and it feels like I have been for a long time. I'll make my own damn way in this world. So, screw you, god. You may have taken everything from me, but you won't break me. I'll survive, and I'll thrive, no thanks to you, you bastard.