His Rejection Killed (ON HOLD)

Chapter Seven

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(not edited.)

Chapter Seven.

It wasn't okay.

I wanted to be human, I needed to be human. 

We're monsters. 

We aren't suppose to be alive. Yet we are, maybe that's what really bothered me. You see, the only difference between everyone else in town and I was that they're strong. They had each other while I was struggling to breathe.

I'm suffocating. 

I don't want to give up; yet I can't fight it anymore. I can't fight my body's weaken form and the way my spiritual being protested every morning. It was like my reason for living was ripped away from me, I didn't have anything to live for. And no one was going to save me from this hell.

I wasn't worth it. 

It felt like hours before I left the principles office and I couldn't have been more grateful as I escaped the scrutiny of Mr. Marino's eyes. But that wasn't the end of my day. When you disappear for a month rumors tend to go around; horrible, stupid yet incredibly painful rumors. My head couldn't wrap around how many times people asked me why I was still alive, or why I moved back here. And my favorite: didn't Antonio kill you?

In a way they were right. Antonio did kill me; he's the reason I'm suffocating. I'm in so much pain, I just don't know how no one sees it. All I wanted was help but instead society shoots me down further into the grave they dug me. Humanity was lost and it was slowly robbing me of mine.

Maybe they were right I should've died. There's a lot of things I should've done: run away, hide, start over, look for my father- the man who knew from the beginning that I was nothing, but most of all I should've saved myself. The angel was right, Antonio ruined me...I ruined myself.

Nobody was going to fix me. 

I found myself back at the cliff Antonio had "saved" me from hours later. It was almost like I didn't want to forget- forget the one time Antonio tried to help me. It was ridicules if you ask me, why would someone like him want someone like me? 

It must of been midnight by the time I stopped dreaming about the what-ifs in my life. But as I moved to get up I was pushed back down. The growling sound that escaped the man in front of me didn't succeed in doing anything but shaking the ground under me. I didn't feel fear; somehow I knew I was stronger. 

"Who are you?" the man spat. But I didn't care enough to answer; I was just a shell trying not to crack. So I just watched as he drew his hand back ready to deliver a punch almost like he was waiting for me to react, like he was testing me. He wanted to see me react, wanted to see me break. What he didn't know was I was a sadistic emotionless piece of shit that was already broken. I wanted to feel pain, I wanted the sweet surround that came with the powerful blow  as it knocked my self-consciousness out but even as his hand made contact with my face I felt nothing. 

Nothing. No pain nor anger, I was truly miserable. And then I realized this was my curse- living a life I can never escape, not even through pain. 

My lack of response riled him up even more as he grabbed me by the neck managing to lift my small figure off the ground. He was killing me and I didn't care. Even as my eyes watered I didn't dare resist him or try to scream, I just allowed it happened. He was doing me a favor; I didn't want to be here anymore; I didn't want to be anywhere.  

And as if he was reading my mind something clicked as his steel-almost blue- eyes made contact with mine. They were the same exact color, mine being a little more steel than blue, yet I knew. The being inside me didn't have to tell me this man wasn't some stranger- no he was family. Even with the knowledge I pieced together I still refused to believe the man who abounded me before I was even born was standing in  front of me. I refused to believe the man who was suppose to be my king, my savior, my bestfriend was killing me. 

He quickly released me from his hold letting me to drop like a sack of potato on the cold hard ground, yet I couldn't have been more disappointed when I admittedly sucked in a deep breath. 

This stranger, who seconds ago was on the verge of killing me, was now begging me with his eyes. Its beyond me what he was begging for: forgiveness  or possibly acceptance, both something I couldn't give him. I didn't know him to accept him, quite honestly I didn't want to.  And forgiveness- that's something I can never give anyone, the being inside me refused to allow that kind of pleasure. It was furious and I was scared. 

"I'm sorry."  The words felt like a stung of reality. He was apologizing and I was depressed.

"I'm your father." It felt like a bullet piercing my heart when the word father escaped his mouth. He didn't even sound like he believed it, of course he didn't I was as much a stranger to him as he was to me. He didn't wait for me to answer as he conformed my suspicious of shock. His hand flew up to his face as his large hands rubbed his eyes making him look tired all of a sudden. Almost like he regretted it; regretted me. He didn't even know me and he already didn't want me. I couldn't blame him though.

I didn't want me either.

But what really broke me was when he turned around and walked away.