Healing with love

The Decision

Jason's pov

My eyes jolted open as a loud banging sound was heard at the door

"DAMMIT! DO YOU HEAR ME WAKE YOUR ASS UP!!", dads voice boomed.

I immediately scrambled over to the door unlocking it and facing my father.

"Next time wake up when I call you the first time", he said darkly.

"Y-yes, sir", I stammered.

He let out a sigh calming down a bit.

"Its 8 fucking 30. Hurry up and go make dinner", he said glaring at me.

"Ye-s s-sir", I said rushing past him and downstairs.

Yes I was in charge of cooking all the meals in the house. Usually I had to have it done by 8 o' clock. I was extremely late and lucky he didn't knock the living daylights out of me.

I quickly got out all the things I needed to make steak, mashed potatoes, and greenbeens, and got to work.

***Timeskip***

After I was done cooking I hastily put Dad's plate next to him.

"About time. Take what your going to eat and go back to your room.", he told me.

I only went upstairs, not bothering getting something to eat.

I closed my door and laid back down on my bed.

'You need something to eat, pup. You can't keep doing this to yourself', Sam told me.

'I'm not hungry.', I told him in my head.

'You need food. You need the energy and strength.'

' I'm not strong. I don't want it.'

Then Sam took control of my body, making me get off my bed. He Had me walk downstairs, On my hands and knees, might I add. I didn't care to even stop him as he made his way awkwardly down stairs in my human body which was harder to control for him than my wolf form.

He he tried, very wobbly, to stand on two legs. He balanced himself on the counter. After about three failed tries, he finally successfully managed to grab a small steak with my mouth.

He returned to my hands and knees and began eating the steak like a regular wolf would. Unfortunately, in reality it looked like a person who was trying to eat like a dog.

"I'll right, I'm leaving for wo-...What The hell are you doing..", my dad said looking down at me.

Sam let out a low growl at him. Which was a bad idea because it immediately resulted in us being kicked hard in the side.

Sam let out a small yelp and I regained control, recoiling in pain

"Don't growl at me. Stupid mutt", he said glaring down at me.

He spat at me then made his way towards the door and left.

'I hate that man', Sam grunted.

'He hates me', I thought, wiping his spit from my face.

I don't blame him. I'd kick and spit on myself too.

I lifed up my shirt to see where he had kicked me. I rubbed at at the small dark purple bruise forming.

'This isn't right. We need to get away from here. You need to get away from here.', Sam stated.

'I belong here. This is what a filthy murderer deserves. What I deserve.', I thought to him.

'That wasn't you! He did it!", Sam tried.

"He wouldnt have even suspected anything if it wasn't so different! If I had never been born!" I yelled out loud, tears now running down my face.

If..  I had never been born.

That was it. I didn't need to be here. I didn't need to live.

I was going to kill myself.

'STOP! Calm down! You don't need t-'

I cut the connection between me and Sam.

I ran into my dads room. After counting exactly ten steps I bent down and lifted the creaky floor board. There it was. His gun. I snatched it up and put the floor board back into place. I ran up the stairs into my room.

Tears were vigorously falling down my face. My hands where shaking as I started to raise the gun up.

No. Not here. I had to do this somewhere else. Some where far, far away from here.

I ran to my dresser and grabed a pen and a small piece of paper.

On it I wrote a note to my dad:

I'm sorry I was born.

I then shoved the gun into my backpack, booked it down the stairs, and flew out the front door.

I'm leaving.

I'm sorry.