Stay with me!

Chapter 36 - related - U

What am I?
If not an offspring from a parent...
Birthed to continue the mistakes of the past. Another chance at life slammed across another soul, robbed. I never had a way around it. I will always be like her. I begin to hate myself like I hate her.

We fought again and words flew out of my mouth that she molded: "pathetic", "thick", "stupid", "useless". It felt like it wasn't even my voice as those words passed through my vocals, it was her strings that pulled me, lulled me into what she would do. I didn't think twice, I didn't think at all until it was too late. My dad didn't show me that it affected him, he seemed... used to it which was awful. How many times have I done this sick joke before? More than I remember, God. I became what I loathed, did I ever have a choice?

...The car passed through an amber light, wisps of sounds that escaped. I don't remember why he was frustrated but it led to him stating I was "just like her". I didn't think I was, not in this circumstance. For my nature demeanour to remind him of her makes me unsure of how different I am from that women, if I am different? I already look exactly like her, I act like her, I say things she does.

"He's just like me! It's like God repaid me for being with you because I don't know how I would have coped -- having a child like you," she taunted with venom at her husband.

Wrong.

She would never be right.

Can't be.

Please.

I should of known better, done better to prevent myself showcasing these traits that kill. I've seen and felt what she's done, destroying our esteem, to the pits of hell. Without any second acknowledgement, learnt from my grandpa and passed on. But she doesn't hit me, sometimes only my father, on dire circumstances. She did learn not to hit her child so there's some progress, I thought by knowing too, I wouldn't say these hurtful things, hurting people but I do. I always have. Why do I do it when it's so fucked? I don't want to live to be like her.

I'd rather die.

No miles ran will save me from what I am, where I'm from; a trashy human being that gnaws on others -- a predator.

....

Fuck. Where am I? It's hot. It's dark. I turn my head around to try and see something that could mean anything, or why it seems like my skin is burning off with each gesture I make with my hands to my feet. Elevated uncertainty was all I could know right now and it was that I didn't know a thing by being completely outside of myself. That is a lie, isn't it? I am not myself, I am just a crafted tool my mother made to further destroy anything that comes in reach of me, if it would make her happy to see it then maybe there was some silver lining but she didn't like that either, she resented everything and everyone of this life. Though, when she stands here and points at me with her dented finger, to pinch her eyebrows together at my shit behaviour, she looks scared.

...

Another prolonged thought but it finishes as Bakugo gasps and squeezes his bedsheets.

How many times did this get him? Its been more frequent than before, more on his mind. The headache isn't helping his dull mood, he needed a break from all the thinking and obsessions, his brain begged for it. He kept pumping out thoughts until he physically couldn't anymore. Exhaustion that sleep couldn't take away, something beyond it.

He was trying to forget it but life kept bringing the same sick idea to his fragile mind; he was just like his mother. It altered his view of himself or of really... anything. It all felt way more fucked up than it should be and he would never process it. It drove him into anarchy, losing it because he couldn't calm down.

Just like her.

Monster. Evil.

Abusive, manipulative.

You'll treat him like that too.

Hi-- his head, fell against the desk with a declared bang, pushing the question another student asked to another time of day. This reoccuring struggle, that always won. Was it his thoughts or the people he was around? He'd never know.

...The familiar wailing-blue walls coating him as the headteacher stared at Bakugo, focused eyes with any hope of grabbing something that was on his mind. Then he remembered the sheet and his eyes softened, unfolding his arms with a cough.

"Would you like to?--" He began.

The student finished, "don't. It's fine, I'm fine. Sorry for being a pain I'll stop it now, promise."

He was pleading to something.

"Bakugo, I am--."

"Can I go now?" Restlessly bouncing his knees.

"No, after I say a final thing," he thought the boy would object so he paused and then continued. "I recommend you talk to a councilor, we have one here."

Bakugo kept his eyes shut, leaning back against the chair. That would be a waste of his time so he refused, just like his mother sickeningly would. He was fortunate to leave without giving a response to Nezu, they left it at being in consideration -- though the student wouldn't do anything about it. He'd do what he always did and compress everything until he explodes, it has worked for all his life and nothing is different.

...He began his walk back home with music in his ears, a rooted yearning he had for most of this endless day. The hitting beats from Green Day's new album was incredible, he enjoyed each song and had an inch that the legendary rock band made another comeback. He drummed the chorus to his favourite song on his thighs as he passed an empty store.

"I never asked to hear your goddamned feelings."

He plucked a few flowers off a bush and ripped them apart as they fell onto the grey ground.

"I never forget a face that's quite so ugly."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to sprint as the clouds warned him of the storm to come. You know what would be nice? Some hot coffee, blankets on his bed and scrolling past tiktoks until his parents had another dispute.