Polarized

Runaway

TW: gaslighting, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse

One month ago:

"Cayto. We need to talk."

"What is it, Dad?"

"Go to your room. We'll talk there."

Feeling a knot in his stomach, Cayto dragged his feet to his bedroom and sat on the bed beside Martin. Martin looked at Cayto, who stared at his lap, averting his father's gaze. Then the older man opened the conversation:

"I've noticed that you haven't been keeping up as much lately. Your teacher says you've been sleeping in class. Your softball coach says you've been skipping training. The other day you brought home a B minus when you're normally an honor student, and yesterday, Sierra told me that you broke her favorite plate and lashed out at her for no reason. Then today you broke three shock tag vials at HACF. What's the matter with you? This isn't the mature, responsible Cayto I've always known."

"I, uh...," Cayto began, but then he hesitated. Do I tell Dad I haven't been able to sleep for an entire week? He thought. Oh, nevermind. He'll probably just tell me that my anxiety and insomnia are not that big of a deal and I should simply get over it. "I'm tired, that's all."

"Tired of what?"

"Life, I guess."

Martin shook his head. "That's not an excuse for your behavior," he stated. "Life can be exhausting, but that doesn't mean you can act in the way you've been acting lately. You are part of a distinguished family, and soon you'll be in charge of a company that's the biggest producer of electronics in Cloudgate. But right now, none of your behavior reflects that, and if anything, it's reflecting poorly on the rest of us, too. You better pull your act together while you can, because if you don't— " the man said as his voice dropped "—I may have to give up on you."

As he gripped his bedsheets, Cayto felt himself tense up. "Do you really think I'm being a disappointment on purpose?" He retorted. "I'm literally burnt out because of..." no, I can't say it's because of you or Mom, Cayto thought, "...everything."

Martin sighed. "Excuses excuses," he lamented. "I did not raise a son who made excuses for this kind of behavior. Burnout doesn't exist, you know. It's all in your head. Just get over it."

A familiar sensation of dread washed over Cayto. "Then what if I told you I've been physically unable to fall asleep because I'm practically covered in shock burns from HACF, and because I can still hear Sierra's voice inside my head each night?" He asked his father. "Is that enough of an excuse for you?"

Martin laughed at Cayto's question. "Oh, come on! Your mom isn't that bad, yet you make her out to be this evil, scary woman. She's just worried about the consequences of having you, a curse-bearer, around other people, that's all," he said. "And what do you mean by "voices inside your head?" Are you crazy? Only crazy people have voices in their head, and I know you're not crazy, Cayto."

"Then what if I told you I didn't lash out at her for no reason, and that she lashed out at me first?" Cayto questioned. "In fact, I don't think I lashed out at her at all. What really happened was that I was washing the dishes, and accidentally dropped a plate. Then Mom blew up on me for breaking the plate and went on this tangent about how I destroyed her family and giving birth to me was her biggest mistake. I didn't say a word the whole time, but then she threw an empty glass bottle at me, and I dodged it. Since I thought it was hypocritical for her to get mad at me for breaking dishes while breaking more dishes herself, I pointed that out, and that's when she told me off for being disrespectful," he recounted.

"To be fair, that plate was expensive, and glass bottles are cheap," Martin stated. "And think about it: even if your story is true and it was your mom who lashed out at you first, there's no way she would say something like that completely unprovoked— just look at yourself! While I do hope that investing in you will be worth it in the end, Sierra's not wrong about you being difficult. For example, you're always cold to everyone, and then wonder why you don't have friends—"