Schizophrenic Steve || ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴄʟᴜᴇꜱ

Broken Genetics

[TW: violence ‼️]
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About a week later, 12 year old Steve was still thinking about the marks left on his mom's body. Yes, they've healed by now. But Steve was confused, hell, he still doesn't get it.

The only time he'd see marks on someone's body is when they got hurt. "Did Mom get hurt?" He thought. And the name she gave them was "love marks." So an idea occurred to Steve.

Maybe she got hurt out of love.

"Yeah, that has to be the explanation." He thought. He didn't see how violence could relate with love, but oh well. It's a crazy world he lives in. He put the clues together, and came to his own conclusion.

And that would explain why she hits him when she's upset and had enough. She hurt him because she loved him. Steve kept thinking in his mind, which actually made him feel better.

Now whenever she'd physically discipline him, he was smiling afterwards. He felt her hand, harshly come down to his face, hitting him, causing a bitter sting. His face was sore, she left a mark. And that meant something to him.

When she saw her son's reaction, it puzzled her. She was still upset, and the confusion was just adding onto frustration. "Why in hell are you smiling, Steve?! What, think this is a joke or something?" She wanted to hit him again, but she reframed this time. She wanted an explanation.

"I love you too, Mommy." Is what Steve said.

She paused, like she didn't hear him right. "I love you too, but you aren't making any sense. God, why is my son like this? Why aren't you crying like how you usually would?!"

"Because— you hurt me out of love. Right? The love marks, remember?" Steve quietly replied. It took her a second to recall the memories. But then the wires in her mind clicked.

Her words were utterly misconstrued. It gave Steve a false conception. A violent conception. It's been interpreted wrongly. She quickly began to grow concerned. "What?" She exhaled, she held up a fake smile in spite of it all. It was easy to tell how she was feeling portrayed by her expression though.

She chuckled dryly, like she was really gonna loose it. "Son, no. You misunderstood." She affirmed him. Steve looked lost. "I did?"

Steve convinced himself his assumption was accurate. Now hearing the opposite from his mom, dragged him down. Nothing makes sense again. We're back to square one.

"I didn't wanna explain because, well, you're young. And I thought it'd be best if you didn't know. But I'm gonna clarify what I meant."

Steve listened carefully. He made a pact in his soul that no matter what his mom told him, he'd still love her. He made that pact a while ago. Right now it was his time to listen, open his eyes and comprehend.

Which failed.

His mother told him about the hickeys, the love bites and all what she was covered in when she came back home that night. Her explanation started with, "when two people love each other..." of course. But there's so many different types of love. That night she went out, it was lust.

Steve's expression subtlety faded into a look of "what the hell?" He didn't say anything out loud though. He simply nodded, "oh, ok. I understand now." His mom smiled warmly and kissed the top of his head, then got up to go back to what she was doing.

He just unloaded information he shouldn't have known upon him. At least he doesn't have to confused violence with love. But questions floated to the top of his mind.

Did she do this every time she went out? Who was doing that to her? Did she like it? Is Mom a whore?

Steve quickly shook the questions out of his mind. He forgot about it. Until years later. He couldn't help but see his mother's reflection in his brother, Joe.

Joe hated getting compared to his mother, as an insult. Which is what Steve did once. That night at the concert, the night of the most brutal fight between the two. His words might as well be on a billboard in his mind. He remembered exactly what he said that really pissed Joe off.

"And you know, since we are sharing our beliefs about each other, it's only fair that I let you know that I think you're a alcoholic whore who's fake as hell. Like mom."

Joe's just like Mom. In all sorts of ways. He looked like her, with his soft— yet handsome features. He presented himself pleasantly. And he had her mannerisms, he even had a rose-like signature scent. Almost exactly like the one his mom had.

But Joe also inherited his mom's negative traits. Such as alcoholism. He didn't drink much, it wasn't like a horrible addiction. But his 'true' colors really leaked out when he was drunk. He was a less pleasant version of himself. He was more honest, in a harsh way.

The thing about Joe is that he loves to be loved.

He seeks approval from others. And it works, most the time. Sometimes people are naturally drawn to him. He loves it. He lusts after it, crave it like the blood in his system. Perhaps Joe is a whore for attention.

On the other hand, Steve wasn't the nicest to people. He hesitated when talking to new people a lot. He didn't care if people hated him or whatever.

But when he had an incredible bond with someone, he made sure he wouldn't loose it.

Like his father.

Then his brother's insult reverberated in his skull. "Better than being a schizophrenic, batshit crazy junkie, LIKE DAD!!"

Dammit. They were both right. Steve didn't know if he could handle that. Joe's words is what broke him in that moment, snapped him into an act of violence.

They're glad they made up afterwards though. With Steve's separation anxiety, he didn't know what he'd do without his brother.