Dead Inside

Chapter 2 | Talk about narcissism.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have always acted indifferent towards me.

It didn't matter how well I behaved, how much time I spent studying, or how many trophies I won every week, I was always invisible in their middling eyes.

It was almost as if I was some kind of obstacle.

Just an insignificant object on their path.

I wasn't their son.

I was nobody to them.

Of course, that was before they started taking all sorts of medication.

Then I suddenly became a hostile enemy, which inevitably turned me into a daily target for their emotional and physical abuse.

I could vividly remember the first time my father laid a hand on me.

There wasn't a particular reason for his decision to smack me so hard that I wouldn't be able to open my left eye for the next two weeks without a minor surgical intervention.

He just felt like it.

He clarified to me that it was for my own good and that I should start acting how a normal child should.

Which understandably, led me to believe that everything was my fault.

Maybe if I was a better son, then I wouldn't have to experience such a malevolent childhood.

So I just pretended that what was happening was completely normal.

It was easier to keep my teeth in place that way.

* * *

June 25th, 2024

"Where is that pathetic excuse for a son?" my beloved father, who hadn't noticed that I had come home from my morning jog twenty minutes ago, screamed in a close distance.

At this point, I had already gotten used to my father's sudden anger outbursts, so I remained unfazed by his hostile inquiry and attempted to continue with my Spanish assignment.

The deadline was due tomorrow and I had only started writing it on my Macbook two hours ago.

You can imagine how far I had gotten with it, keeping in mind that the only thing I had successfully managed to type was my name.

I wasn't very good when it came to foreign languages.

Unfortunately, my decision to remain unseen in my compact bedroom wasn't met with success, because a few seconds later I was face to face with the person who made sure that my life was a living hell.

Also known as the most sadistic legal guardian known to mankind, Richard Raynes.

Even if I wanted to capture the true essence of the person who was responsible for my poor upbringing, alongside the multiple bruises over my malnourished body, I wouldn't have been able to.

Why?

Mostly because he was notorious for being one of a kind.

If he didn't take this anger out on me, he preferred to use my almost empty college fund to buy himself, and my neurotic mother, hard alcohol mixed with illegal substances.

Yeah, my life was the true definition of an American horror story.

Unfortunately, that was the harsh reality I was forced to subsist in, desperately seeking some sort of comfort amidst all the misery I had been constantly experiencing.

There was no hope, only suffering.

But I guess it could have been worse.

Right?