I Am Cameron

Living the Lie

I shake my head. I had my answer. I knew the truth now, but I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it.

He's not my father.

He's not.

And she knew. My mother knew. I couldn't help the next words that came out of my mouth.

"You are the worst excuse for a mother".

I had enough time to register the shock on her face before I turned around and walked out of the room. I walked out of the house. I grabbed my bike and rode out of the rundown, broken neighborhood. I clench my teeth realizing that I had nowhere to go and left everything I had behind me. I'd have to return to get it, but I wasn't going to rush back anytime soon. Once I was a good three miles away. I climbed off the bike and began walking. My mind was racing three times faster than my heart.

Who is my real father? Why haven't I met him? Why hasn't he tried to meet me? Did he know I exist? The Anastasia lady knows both of us so he must be aware that I'm here. I'm not one to assume, but what if he's worse? There is always worse in the world. Could he be it?

What is worse though?

I forced myself to not waste my time thinking of the improbable. I thought of what I knew. That man-- Austin is his name-- is not my father. Does he know? Does he beat me because I'm his son and he believes it's his right to? Is it actually because I'm not his son and this is his way of letting me know that?

The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that the first option was scary as hell. With that mentality, I'm just a tool for him to use to his devices. He can sell me, buy me back, and then sell me again because he has every right to.

I freeze.

The icy, sparkling scenery around me couldn't distract me from the thoughts creeping within my mind. What if he has that mentality and finds out that I am not his son? What would he do then? This could be a lot worse in an instant. I didn't want worse. I wanted to escape.

My mind trailed back to the letter that changed everything. She said I could visit. How long though? Maybe I can find a way to get there and take shelter for a few days before going off on my own. I'm not old enough to save myself like I want to, but it could be a start. Hopefully, my father's side of the family is more humane.

I wander around for a few more hours stuck in my thoughts. I head home and arrive back by eight. I gulp slightly when I notice the grey Toyota truck in front of our complex.

'Dad' is home.

I linger on the porch a while, deciding that I wasn't going to say anything. I won't say anything about the letter or Virginia or even the fact that they want to sell me. I won't say anything. With that mantra repeating in my head, I open the door.

"You ungrateful bastard".

My ears perk up as I look up to see mom and Austin sitting on my bed. Austin stands up, his breath raspy. There was more color to his face than usual, meaning that he was sober. Sober Austin is worse than high or drunk Austin. He can center his rage more. I step back out the door, but he rushes over and pulls me in. My hands launch up to protect my face instinctively, but I'm just shoved to the floor. I look up to Austin immediately as he begins talking.

"What did I tell you about touching my mail? Nothing in this house is yours", he roars, as if it wasn't engraved into my brain already. Speaking had a higher chance of making the situation worse, so I stayed quiet. This earned me a kick to the gut. My eyes bulge as my lungs try to grasp any speck of air near me. The air quality was horrible, but I needed it right now.

"Who do you think you are? You can graduate high school, but you can't obey a simple instruction? Who told you to open doors for strangers? Who knows who could be at the door", he rages.

There's this thing called a peephole, you moron. Anyone with eyes can see who it is outside by looking through. I grunt in pain as I ignore the thought plaguing my mind. I just had to get through this beating, just like I got through all the other ones.

"First your jobs and then this crap? What else are you hiding you little shit"?

My eyes go wide. He knew about my jobs? Then did he know about the money? I sit up slowly and painfully, inching towards my bag. There's a hidden pocket that even I had trouble finding. All that money in there is to help me escape this hellhole. I wince as a hand grasps my hair and yanks me back.

"When I'm talking to you, you stay still until I'm done, y'here", he says throwing me to the ground. I catch myself before I can hit the ground which makes him even angrier. The next thing I know is that I'm standing up.

"Even with all that money you made, you're worthless. Thanks for the donation though", he says, a sly grin canvassing his face. I feel my brows crease and my eyes narrow, despite better, logical judgment.

"You took my money"?

I gasp for air as his hand uppercuts into my upper abdomen. I knew where he was trying to hit which made me even angrier. I still couldn't help myself as he backed me into the wall.

"If it's in my house, it's mine. Your bed, your bag, your money, your food, your mother, you; it's all mine", he says.

"I am NOT your son", I say with venom.

My mother, who has been loitering next to the kitchen about five feet away smoking a cigarette, perks up before taking a step back. I focus on Austin who blocks my entire view. I look up at him. I hate having to look up at him.

"What did you just say".

It came out as a demand, not a question. It was a challenge, a challenge to speak up and then suffer the consequences.

"Ask your wife if you don't believe me", I respond. Thankfully, instead of lunging at my throat and ending my life, he slowly turns around confused to my mother.

"Elena", he warns. My mother tensed up, the fear I usually hid evident on her face. It made me sad a bit. Why be with a man you feared? 

"He is lying", Austin continues.

My mother looks at me then back at Austin. She knew what lying would do to me. She also knew what telling the truth would do to her. Now the question was who did she want to protect more. It's a dead giveaway at this point.

"He isn't".

My head shoots up just as her eyes find mine.

What? She quickly stared at the ground with regret. I didn't mind. She cared enough in that instance, to tell the truth.

"What"?!

Our attention shifted to Austin.

"Then who's child have I been raising" he booms. I had a few things to say to that statement but dying young was not on my bucket list. My mother stares at the ground ashamed. At this point, I wouldn't blame her. We both jump up as Austin slams his hand down on the table, making the wood splint and begin to divide into unequal halves.

"Dammit, El! And you", Austin says turning to me. My eyesight blotches after my left cheek is struck. I don't even have time to process the damage from that one blow before I'm hit by another one. "You wanna mock me, don't you? You trying to challenge me? I'm THE MAN OF THIS HOUSE".

You're a pathetic excuse of a man, I think as I cough up a bit of blood. It's quiet for a while... At least I think it is. The ringing in my ear made it hard to tell. All I knew is that my mother stared at me horrified.

"What did you just say to me", I hear Austin say. His voice was shaking and I could sort of see him trembling with rage through my swollen eye. I remember his face turning red and then I yelled out before everything went dark. I couldn't see. I couldn't open my eyes and I'm more than sure I wasn't breathing.

Maybe it's better this way.

A/N: Get excited for the next few chapters. I hope there aren't any plot holes, heh heh.