The Battlefield Within Me & Out

Acceptance?

"Who are you to have the right to talk back to me!?" demanded the father. The son merely looked away, walking past him, but the father grabbed hold of his wrist, pulling him back just before he punched him hard. His nose bled greatly, yet a wound stretching from the interior of his lip to the outside bled more than the nose could. He spat out blood, crimson colors staining the wooden planks underneath them. The son tried to look up at his father, only to receive an undercut which almost dislocated his jaw and knocked him out of balance. With a thud, he coughed up more blood into his hands. The father ran his fingers through his son’s hair, clutching it tightly as he pulled him back up. The son could only grimace at the throbbing pain on his scalp, too weak to even make a sound. “Only follow what I say. Nothing. Else.” The father said through gritted teeth. The son could see the pure hatred and frustration in his eyes which made him feel more hatred for himself than towards his father. The father released him, leaving the son bleeding sprawled on the floor.

The son waited until the father left the house. As soon as he heard the door close, tears immediately streamed down his cheeks, whimpering quietly. He didn't bother to wipe his tears away because he knew it's his fault why this happened to him. He tried to make sense of why his father encouraged him to be independent yet force him to obey what he says. Like a fucking hypocrite. He knows that some part of him says that his father is only doing what's best for him, yet he feels betrayed. He thought the father accepted him for who he is, but that thought was soon replaced with the realization that he would never be accepted or understood. How can he? He tried so many times to make his father understand, but every single time, he always turns a blind eye to anything he cannot and refuse to understand.

This led the son to decide to hide everything from his father. From that day on, a new version of the son was born. Obeying every single thing that the father commands him to do. Of course the father was pleased. Several years went on like that. Then when the son had come of age, his father asked him what career he wants. The son replied, “Anything you want, father.” The father laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Oh, come on, son. What do you really want?” The son replied again, “Anything you want, father.”

The father stood there, speechless. It then dawned to him that this person in front of him is not his son. How could he have realized that just now? But he looks the same, sounds the same and acts the same. Though, there's something different… He doesn't have a heart. It registered to his painfully slow mind as late as ever. The son’s words seemed to be cheerful, but then it sounded hollow when he thought about it. For the past years, the son didn't defy him, even once. The son didn't ask of the things he used to be beg him for. He only followed what he said. “N-no… You, you’re not my son!” The father exclaimed, horror laced in his voice as he stepped back. “Of course, I'm your son, father. I'm the son you always wanted to have, is it not?” The son smiled.