"I feel bad for the people who never go crazy."
Trepidation (n): a feeling
of fear or
agitation
about
something
that may happen.
%
Athena Williams is a quiet and hardworking girl wit...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JAKE ABBEY SAT on the floor in his impeccably clean room. He just spent two hours polishing the dry wooden floor in his room, which was only about as big as a decent sized dining room. He tried his best to keep himself occupied, as his mind was desperately pleading for his hands to do another...
The man closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. He began to count. While being completely still, Jake counted and counted all the way up until two hundred and fifty four-that is-until someone interrupted him.
"What the fuck are you doing on the damn ground?"
His father's voice crept up on him, the hoarse and deep tone making his skin crawl as he tried to continue.
"I know you heard me, boy. Get your sorry ass up from the floor!"
Jake's eyes opened quickly, his hands trembling slightly as he took a deep breath and exhaled.
"Don't you got a pipe to blow?" Jake sarcastically mumbled, his floorboards creaking as the man stepped forward.
"You done lost your mind! Talking to me like that! I'll kill you, boy. Don't you forget, you fucking piece of-"
It wasn't long before Jake had stood up and walked towards his dresser, the surface giving off an oily shine as he shakily opened his top drawer.
"-now you wanna get up, huh? You don't like it when I call ya names? When I tell ya the truth? Well, why don't you get your shit together and maybe I wouldn't have to shout at ya! Do you think you're better than me? Your ma? Huh, tough guy?"
Jake had been slowly shifting the clothes in the shelf in search for a specific object, one his mind kept repeating.
Find it, find it, find it.
"Be quiet," Jake had spoken out loud to himself, not realizing his egotistical father figure was present.
"What now? Oh, you've done it this time!"
All it took was for that man to scuff his boot onto the just polished floor of Jakes room, in attempts to grab him, before Jake had gripped the handle of the knife he so grew so desperately fond of, and sliced it across his fathers face. It only took a moment before blood dripped from the wound and onto the wood below them. The man stumbled backward, in utter shock that something like this would happen.
"Son-SON!"
Jake had watched pitifully as his father stumbled from his room and into the living area where his screaming mother could be heard.
"You-I'll kill you! I'll kill you! What did you do?!"
He always knew his parents didn't want him. The proof is in his childhood. The only reason why they didn't abort was because of money, and having a kid to get a monthly check was a perfect way to fund their habit.
