| C H A P T E R : S E V E N |
Caden's POV
The whole incentive of why I was on my e-mail last night was to check if Jared, Richard's brother, e-mailed me the address to the funeral. I was attending two funerals in one week, and I did not want to be in a room with a whole bunch of people crying like it was the end of the world. All though I was really mad and sad that I had to lose two special people in my life, I didn't want to feel even worse than I already had. With all these bad mixed up feelings going through me I see a white screen messenger pop up.
It was Kaysly, I couldn't control myself at that point. I was so mad that after all this time her telling me about this God that doesn't exist. If this God loved me and says, "I alone know the plans I have for you. Plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future, one you hope for." Then this loving God allows my friends to die. I would never have gone to church that day with Kaysly if it had meant losing my friends. Then she had the nerve to defend Him like this was a good thing, I didn't want anything to deal with her and her beliefs anymore. I left right after I read her last message that she sent to me, and left her in her own little counterfeit world.
That same day that Zachary died was at 1:24 AM. Jared's death was at 2:24 PM. The times between the two were more similar to me even though one was an hour behind. I kept thinking about these numbers going through my mind like a refrain to a song. I don't know what was about it that spooked me the most. The part where anyone could think their exactly the same or that there was a meaning to behind all this? I tried to push all this curiosity to the back of my mind; it was probably because the conversation I and Kaysly recently had.
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The next day I came home after school not hearing from anyone about someone's esteem dying down or acknowledging my state of affairs. I walk into the foyer and glanced into the living room to see a familiar head sticking out from behind a chair, the same blonde strands of hair sticking out showing the same degrading bold spot.
He's lying so comfortably in the seat with arms crossed behind is neck as a head rest and his legs extended out on the coffee table. As he hears me closing the front door with a low thud, he slowly turns his direction towards me in a perfect 360. He gives me an overshadowing stare meeting my gaze with a soiled expression upon his face. Usually step parents get this type of treatment, but I despised living every second with this man. There was no way I could share the same blood with this man. Even though all the times my mother was practically tattooing this fact to my brain, it just seemed unreal to me.
"How was school?" As unreal as I thought us being related, nothing seem more fake then him actually caring how my day was.
"Fine." I said not coming up with anything slick to say.
"Look son, I heard about your little dysfunctional conversation with your mother--" "Dysfunctional? No, the conversation was pretty clear and we both understood what we were saying." I say clearing up that false statement he made.
"It's how I alleged the situation." He said charmingly shrugging his shoulders. No matter what he said or how he was trying to say it, it always seemed that he was trying to make me the fool.
"I know I haven't been a big part of your life, but it seems that since your mother can't get a hold of you and for you to follow her rules I guess I will have to straighten you out myself." He said crossing his arms.
Out of all every things I've heard people say to me, this made me dumbfounded.
"Over my dead body.” I say crossing my arms. If I showed that I was calm about the situation, I would prove to him how powerless he truly was, that he had no authority over me.
"I'll give you two choices." He said holding up two of his sausage-shaped fingers.
"You start behaving now; we'll start all over again, and if you don't you can start thinking about how you will get comfortable to your soon to be boarding school."
"What makes you think I’ll take you seriously?" I said hyperventilating. He lifts up the application and at the very bottom I could see my mother's signature written in a shade of blue pen.
"All I need to do is to put my signature and mail it off." He says. I head right back out of the door feeling like it was the only way of getting me completely ripped out of the picture, out of their lives, just like they wanted.
She never made me feel like she was in need of my presence, or showed any type of affection either. Walking out this door was me, allowing their wishes to be granted.
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After leaving a friend’s house and completely and utterly feeling like the scum of the Earth. I decided to come back to my 'temporary home.' I got on the road and took I-95, I turn the music up in the car keeping my eye's sight on the road. I turn to my right taking the exit when there was a car trying to cut through and I tried avoiding my car from getting wrecked. I tried stopping and stomped on the car break, but my car goes leaping into the air flipping over and landing on top of its self with me in it. Surprisingly I did not feel any pain.
