Son of a drug addict

Part. 9

A/N: Quick note.... I just wanted to say that I appreciate it that you keep reading my works, and you leave comments (which seriously make smile everytime I see one), so uhh... thanks <3

Please enjoy this chapter xoxo

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I layed on Diego's couch, the school just had ended. Chester didn't show up, I wish he had. I really don't know what to do with this situation with my dad. I don't wanna die. Yes, there are days when I hope I was, days when I wanted to kill myself, but... I really don't wanna die. Jason would never be okay. I hear Diego walk into the house, where ever he had been.

"Mike, come on" he muttered.

"I ain't coming on" I mutter back.

"This is ending now. You are shitting yourself with this fear. It ends now. Get up" Diego commanded.

"Why would I get up? So you can slap me in the head and say I fucked up?" I said.

Diego grabbed my shirt and roughly pulled me up. "You're going to see Lee. Today"

"What? NO! I don't wanna die. You want me to die?"

"Of course, jackass" he said sarcastically. "He ain't gonna kill you. He wouldn't do that. Trust me. But he will punch you. And it is going to hurt as much as all of the punches he gave you, were given to you at the same time"

"He haven't hurt me that bad" I mutter, looking down.

"Then why you cannot touch you shoulder?!" he shouted.

"It doesn't matter" I muttered.

"Of course it does! He broke your elbow when you were 13. You broke his arm now. You're even, he's not going to kill you"

"What if he does?" I asked.

"You can't live this way" he said. "In the car, now"

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We were front of my house. I watched it and I knew Lee was inside. "This is a stupid idea. You're stupid"

"Yeah yeah I love you too, get in" Diego said, pushing me out of his car.

I took a deep breathe and walked to the porch. I took another deep breathe and opened the front door, stepping in. This is a really bad idea. This is gonna hurt like hell.

"Michael, is that you?" I heard he asked, as I walked further into the house.

"Yeah, i-it's m-me" I stuttered out of fear.

My dad got up from the couch, facing me. He had a hard cast from his elbow to his shoulder. "I'm sorry" I whispered.

"They're just words, Mike" he said, grabbing my shirt and throwing me against the wall. He took a firm grip on my shoulders and my chin. He was going to snap my neck.

"Please. Don't" I begged, fighting not to release a tear. "I don't wanna die"

"Just words" he whispered to me and tightened his grip. I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, he just lets go. He steps back. "I can't do it. I can't fucking do it"

I opened my eyes, and saw my dad who was no longer angry, but sad. "Okay now you are just scaring me, why are you sad?"

"I can't kill my own son" he said.

"Why? You really wanted me dead"

"I know" he muttered. "But I just can't. Because of me you wouldn't even exist. I can't kill something that I literally fought to have"