Sade

Chapter 1

Peter's P.O.V

My name is Peter. Peter Jackson. I have to deal with many problems everyday. You know when no one understands you but you have to keep going in life because you are waiting for that one thing your gut tells you it is about to arrive.

You do not know what that thing is but you just go on waiting knowing that it is almost there. I am becoming too talkative now am I not? Sorry I do not mean to be philosophical but it gets to me sometimes. Anyways...

"Peter get out of bed, you can not spend your days crying over Helena. And I am telling you, one of these days I will have your father beating you up until you know how to respect everyone. I am sick of your behavior! Now stop crying over a woman who is not yours." My mother quaked obnoxiously which easily had me irritated. I really hated her pitchy voice, I hated everyone's pitchy voice. Especially those who were always happy as if they did not know that they would one day die a miserable death.

"Crying is a pathetic action mother, that I do not exercise for any particular individual of any age and sex. Now shall I be excused, please." I retorted my natural cold glare featuring on my face.

Mother shook her head and left the room, not because of my threat but because she was irritated by my response. I hated it when my family got into my business as they always did, all and up nosing in my life. Asking why I am not married, why I am too quiet. I had no story to share with any of them, well maybe except my father.

To be honest, with my family I tried to be the best I could but I could not help but coax that angry irritated look on their faces. I loved to see the way their faces fell when they were sad.

I also loved the way my mother's brow furrows when she is in pain. Don't get me wrong, love is a pathetic feeling but I do hold strong feelings for my family. Just that I have a thrill when someone cries or begs, and so far my siblings did that very well.

I was not too violent but rather cold, natural character to be honest. I did not force it into me, it was something I had grown to become. When I was younger, I used to torture squirrels but after counseling I just stopped it even if the thrill was tempting.

At St Peter's once, I fought with someone but I would rather not discuss the issue now. It bothered me very much and it forced me to question my sanity.

Many things actually forced me to question my sanity. Like when I punched a sick man right in the face. Alfonso Diego. He was just from cancer treatment and he looked very pale, hairless- pathetic figure really, which almost forced me to beat him up until he was unconscious.

I hated that man with a passion, oh God I hated him. Not only because he married the only woman I ever held feelings for more than anyone else. But also because he had an aura of business and had an obnoxious superiority complex.

It's simple, I hated Alfonso Diego and he was oblivious of that fact. Giving me manly hugs when he visited. Telling me about his love for Helena when he was still sick. Crying in front of me as if expecting me to hug him which was stupid and uninterested. If only he knew how much trouble I went through only to maintain my calm for someone who did not at all deserve it. Maybe he would not have bothered.

I let a frustrated groan when I heard my mother's whispered to my father. I was planning on moving out soon but I had not decided on the day exactly. I was tired of being asked to marry everyday, I knew I was going to marry once I felt it was necessary. I hated it however when everyone expected me to tell then I was getting married whenever I said something.

I was tired of being told what to do too. I hated being told what to do with a passion. To be honest, I hated a lot of things including human beings who did not know their place with me.