The Imposter

The Imposter | Chapter Twenty [Incendiary]

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[Chapter Twenty]

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incendiary \in-SEN-dee-er-ee\

(adj.) [of a device or attack] designed to cause fires or tending to stir up conflict

(n.) A person who stirs up conflict, strife or sedition

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My carpet was going to have a permanent wear from Kyle constantly pacing back and forth. I had to restrain myself from getting off the bed, walking over to him and shaking him until he spat out whatever he wanted to say. Instead, I sat there patiently and waited...and waited...and waited.

"I'm sorry," he said in a frustrated tone. "I'm not good at the whole baring my sordid past, crap."

"I know," I murmured. He shot me a defensive look, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Why don't you just start from the beginning?" I suggested calmly, hoping he would tone the intensity down and get it off his chest.

"The beginning," he repeated hollowly. "I guess that would be my birth." Sighing painfully, Kyle grabbed my desk chair and swung it around to face me. He sat in it and rested his elbows on his legs so that he could hold up his head with his hands.

"There are only two things in this world my father has ever loved: himself and my mother," he started in a monotone voice. "My mom died giving birth to me and my father has never forgiven me since. It's my fault that she died and he'll never let me forget it."

"Kyle—" I started to whisper.

"No, I'm not done," he cut me off harshly. He seemed to be experiencing some inner struggle as he pulled himself together and continued. "Nothing I do will ever make my father proud. I tried for years to do everything in my power to make him happy. I was an A student, got involved in as many school activities as possible. I was Class President and Captain of the soccer team, but nothing worked. Finally, I thought if I joined NANO with him, he would see that I was serious and wanted to make him proud. Even then he found flaws in me. I wasn't strong enough, couldn't learn fast enough; he didn't care that I was top of my class because to him, nothing I did would bring my mother back." Kyle stopped and took a deep breath, avoiding my eyes altogether.

"It took me a long while to realize it, but I can't do anything to earn his favor. At this point, I don't really want to. To him, I killed the love of his life; it's just the icing on the cake that I'm a failure too."

Kyle laughed bitterly and pulled something out of his pocket, fisting it in his palm. He reached out and handed it to me, revealing a small tin soldier. "When I was younger, my grandpa gave me his set of tin soldiers. I loved those toys more than anything in the world. Whenever I needed to get away, I would play with them, setting up ambushes and rescue missions. One day, my father found out about my secret 'escape' and took them away. He made me watch as he threw them in the fire and melted them down to nothing. Just like that, he killed a part of me. Months later, I found one lone soldier under my bed. Apparently he had escaped my father's wrath. I put him in my pocket and kept him with me at all times, for good luck, and to remind me of whom my father was. Still, I tried to make him proud. He found other ways to get rid of things I loved, though.

"When he realized that his insults weren't getting through to me anymore, he got angry and found ways to taunt me. Just recently he's been finding little ways to make my first solo mission even harder. He'll commandeer people I'm working with, take over the stations I need, transport weapons to different areas so that I can't use them and so on. Nothing too dramatic that jeopardizes the mission, but enough to be an inconvenience."