𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐋

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆

Damien

I've been in this bathroom for the last two hours or so. I've heard chatting from downstairs, but couldn't really make out the words. But of course my parents were doing most of the talking, I heard their voices the most.

All my achievements are their achievements. They brag to my family about everything, or just over share my private business. When I tell them about it they say they're my parents and they can tell whatever they want to people. That's why I don't tell people a lot about me. It feels great having people not know every little thing about you.

"Damien Hudson, open this door." My mom orders from the other side of the door. I roll my eyes.

"Why should I? You don't care about how I feel about anything."

"Because I am your mother young man."

"You don't act like one." I grumble with a scoff, and there's no more movement or shifting from outside the door.

"Damien can you please open the door, I just wanna talk." Her voice changes like the siren she is. But I'm no sailor, I won't be fool by her sudden change of tone. Her tone sounds more sympathetic, more higher in pitch yet it was gloomy at the same time.

"About what? I think you've said enough about how I'm not a good enough son."

I even started to believe it, to the point I lashed out on the people who are important to me. Which I still regret, even though I apologized and they forgave me, It took longer for me to forgive myself.

"I was just saying stuff, you know how I can get when I'm tired Damien. Don't hold this against me."

I want to forgive her, but I've fallen for the same shit she pulled for 18 years. I've heard all the excuses of why she says the shit she say. I could honestly right an essay if I were to combind all her excuses.

"You know I love you right? You're my son, matter what. I just want what's best for us."

"Us?"

"Y-You, I meant you!" She let's out an awkward laugh, and I could tell that she was lying. She wants to use me as a trophy for her and dad. They say they just are trying to make me look good, but whatever I do, they always manage to end up complementing themselves, and putting me down in some way

I open the door, she looks up at me, a forced smile. "Thanks Damien."

"Sure." I say as I walk pass her, I make sure not to make eye contact with her as I leg down the stairs.

I'm not saying here longer than I have too.

"Damien wait." She grabs me by the arm. I snatch my arm away, turning around to her.

"What?"

"Tell me what's wrong?"

"How about you tell me mom? You and dad constantly tell everyone every little details about me to everyone, every little accomplishment. But then make it about you guys every chance you get. You want me to be a perfect son, get straight A's, never make a mistake, you put so much pressure on me, and for what?! So you can have bragging rights? And whenever I bring it up you play victim, and I'm the villain for telling you how I feel. You two can fool everyone else with this great parenting bullshit, but I've had to actually live with you two for years, and I'm tired of it. It's the exact reason I moved out."

"So you're upset with me because I want the best for you? As your mother I'll always want the best for you, but you think I'm just some terrible person."

"See, this is what I mean by making yourself the victim. Were you even listening to me? To anything I was saying, how I feel, and how I've felt over the years. Were you even listening?"

"Yes and-"

"No you weren't, you're still just trying to make yourself feel as if you're in the right. If you think you're a victim, then be like that, but I'm not gonna be around to watch you make a fool of me." I pull on the coat that I had hooked on the coat hanger. I pull my gloves and hat on before opening the door.

"Happy Thanksgiving mom." I walk out and shut the door, she doesn't even bother to say anything or apologize. I let out a sigh as I walk off the porch. My feet crunching the snow beneath my feet.

I hop on my motorcycle cycle and immediately began to drive off. The black sky is painted with grey clouds, snow still dances in the air, but slower than earlier.

I stop at a red light, and I felt water swelling in my eyes. I hate that I was explaining to her how I felt and she just brushed it off as if it meant nothing. Am I just nothing, are my feeling just invalid? Why doesn't she even try to understand?

The light turns green and I continue down the snowy path. Eventually I make it back to the house. I park my motorcycle in the garage so It wouldn't completely freeze up and go in the house.

I guess I'll be in the house alone until everyone comes back...

All alone