Plenty Wrong, But Still Here

Chapter One: Argument

They were yelling again. I covered my ears with my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. No. No. No. No. But I couldn't drown it out. Their voices rung inside my head, pinging around until I felt like my head would explode. "I told you to go to the bank and get a check for me! Is that too much to ask?" "I was busy getting a haircut, it's not like you're the only person in my world!" "Why are you so useless? You can't do the simplest of tasks!" "Well you should just shut up and take care of the family!" "As should you!"

I swallowed, but the lump of cement in my throat remained. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran downstairs.

"Mom! Dad!" I cried out. My parents turned to me, stopping their furious argument and hand-waving. "Adrian, what do you want? Mom and Dad are busy right now," Mom said.

"Please..." I blinked my tears away. "...stop fighting. I don't want either of you to leave. I love both of you. I didn't do anything wrong. So please... stop."

There was a long pause. I stared at my feet, fiddling with my thumbs. I was too afraid to look up at my parents' faces.

"You did plenty wrong," my mother growled.

I stopped. What?

"If it weren't for you, this argument wouldn't be happening," she continued.

Dad said, "That check was to pay for your school fees. Even though you go to a public school, you're too damn expensive to look after. If you weren't born, this marriage would be perfectly functional!"

Silence.

I knew it. They never cared for me. They never did, and they never will.

Both of my parents started stuttering at once.

"Adrian, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that-" my mom gasped.

"You know we care for you, we really do love you-" Dad said.

Excuses.

I took a shaky breath and balled my fists. "You never cared for me, did you?" I finally looked up at my parents' faces. They looked like I had slapped them in the face.

"A real parent wouldn't say that." My voice cracked. "A real parent is supposed to watch out for their child. You were supposed to watch out for your child. For me."

"Adrian-" My mom said.

"What should a real parent do for their child? Give them guidance. Care for them. Help them be independent and grow up to do something in life. You never did any of that."

"Adrian. Leave." My father sounded dangerous.

"Dad-"

"LEAVE!" He shouted.

I froze. I didn't look up at him. I didn't want to. And I never would again.

I ran out the backdoor of the house. No one stopped me.