Was I Enough? ~Jamilton~

Acception

JOHN'S POV

As the world spins, I love to think that we all have a purpose. Some have just a purpose to be a filler, help the population grow and to contribute to issues with things like voting. There's nothing wrong with that, most people are fine with their life in their boring cubicles and with their opposite-sex partner.

I like to the think I'm different.

I like to think the world owes me one. I know I'm not exactly supposed to think such things. The world doesn't owe you shit. It tosses you around and breaks you, and you just have to get off the ground. Fall down seven times, get up eight.

Yet I seem to love to think I'm an acception.

I don't talk about my childhood much, I fact I refuse to. It just wasn't pretty. My father was a homophobic, abusive, violent, neglective, horrible man. Yet I don't talk about him. He scares me. He hurt my family, consisting of my four siblings. My siblings aren't as scarred as I am though, I shelled them from almost everything.

Because that's what older siblings do.

They take the blows.

They take care of everyone else.

Then they spend the rest of their lives doing it.

So I don't talk about my dad. I worked the first job I could find for the highest price. I handed down the job of 'older sibling' to my next sibling. Then I saved up, and took full custody of the kids, and went to court with my father.

It's my secret life.

I have a little apartment in Washington Heights with four kids who I've raised.

Which is fine.

So I like to think I'm an acception. A perfect slide through. I'm not normal, I don't have a wife, I don't have a college degree to some school no one has ever heard of, and I most certainly don't work a desk job like most in their boring little cubicles.

I like to think I have a purpose.

To provide a life for those kids.

To help my friends.

And to be a turtle enthusiast.

I'm back bitches.

~361 words