Shadows of My Past

Chapter 6

Thousands of questions flooded my head, ones I was too afraid to hear the answers to. But it was unclear how long my father was willing to make conversation so if I wanted an explanation, I needed to ask now.

"Is all of this really because of my mother?"

His head immediately snapped in my direction. "What did you just say?"

"The drinking, the abuse... is it because my mother is gone."

"Im doing this because I want to." he barked.

"That's bullshit and you know it.

When he didnt reply, I decided to keep pushing. "Do you miss her?"

"No."

"Obviously you do or you wouldn't be going through this much trouble trying to kill me."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

I took a long, deep breath. "I look like her. I remind you of her. I'm practically her living twin. The way we think, the way we move, the clothes I wear, the foods we eat, my hobbies, even my voice. We're identical. And because of this, every time you look at me you see her. And that kills you because she left you. Alone. To raise her daughter by yourself. And you freaked out because you were afraid of screwing up. So you decided to give up all together. You decided to leave me in the ditch; to destroy me like she destroyed you when she was murdered, even though you knew she wasn't the one to blame. And that, father, is the hardest part for you because you have no one to blame for this but yourself . And you know this just as well as I do."

I knew I'd hit a nerve when he wrapped his large hands around my neck. With every struggled breath his grip became tighter.

"HOW DARE YOU," He roared. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TREATING ME WITH NO DAMN RESPECT."

"You are such a hypocrit." I said through gritted teeth.

My throat was close to closing and I could feel my heart beat slowing. My head was spinning...

"You never loved me. You never cared! You might as well just kill me now. It won't make a difference anyway." My voice was a ragged whisper. He scowled and squeezed my throat harder, proving he was strong enough to rip my head off. I titlted my stare into my father's drunken eyes. "Maybe I'll meet you in hell."

His knuckles turned white as he clenched my throat. I started to see splotches of colors, then blankets of black. I was falling, into an eternal hole. I waited for the moment of impact, when my back would suddenly hit the ground. But it never came. I kept falling, deeper and deeper.

Until something stopped me.

There was a small flash of light, like the light at the end of a tunnel. Slowly lifting me back to life.

My eyes fluttered open, but something was obviously missing.

My father's hands were no longer attached to my throat.

I aimlessly looked around my living room, searching for any sign of my murderous father.

Only to find a lifeless body sprawled across the floor, with a frightened Damian pointing a gun towards the large man's back.