Cold

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Sad.

That's one word you could describe myself as.

My father and mother were so happy together. I've found out that they were formed into a quirk marriage together, but it turns out they actually loved each other.

Being the perfect miracle, I was succeeded into being made into the perfect quirk child they've wanted. Yet it wasn't like they didn't just want me for the quirk. They loved me.

They practically spoiled me. Life was happy. It was the perfect family. Dad being a pro hero, mom being the perfect wife and mother.

That's what it was for at least both of us.

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.

.

.

On the inside, my mother was sad. She didn't feel like she was very needed in life. She hated herself. She hated everything about herself.

She did love us though. Dad never knew. I was too young to even fully understand what she was going through, or what depression even was.

She looked happy, had a perfect smile on her face at the dinner table when dad came home. Sometimes dinner nights were filled with millions of conversations. Sometimes it'd just be a few words. It was peaceful.

.

.

.

.

.

It was dad's turn to pick me up from school. I just hit middle school. My parents were proud of my perfect grades, and how many friends I had.

My dad and I had quite the father-daughter relationship. I wanted to be just like him in every way. He would tell me stories about the villains he caught, the pro heroes he worked with, and the annoying news reporters who always asked him questions after a battle.

We got home to a dark house that day. The lights were off. Maybe mom just had a tired day, wanted to sleep in. It wasn't like we had any pets or anything.

My dad bought me a card to give to my mom signed from both of us. It had a little stick girl holding a big stick woman's hand with a stick man's hand in the other. It was a family.

Nothing was special. It was just appreciation for her. We would always get her cards. Sometimes flowers. Chocolates even, she loved the fruity ones.

The bedroom was dark, cold. It smelled horrible. The lights flickered on.

My mother.

Laying in a pool of blood.

Gun in hand.

Lifeless eyes.

Not a smile.

Life wasn't so perfect after that.

I lost all of my friends.

They called me a villain.

They thought I was the one who did that to my mother. A rumor.

Maybe I didn't physically hurt her. Mentally? I don't care what anyone says. I was not good enough for her. I could have been better.

Dad was a total wreck. He took a year off from crime fighting. I was there for him though. I wish I was there for my mother. I never even teared up after that day.

I was his rock. I didn't want to show him my sad side. He had no one else besides me.

"You mother murderer!"

"Your quirk is for a villain, you have to hurt people!"

"Is your dad really proud of you?"

"Sucks to be you!"

"You'll be an amazing villain I can take down later on!"

"Villain!"

Years passed by. Even though I never liked being called those names, I learned to accept them. I even grew an attitude. I never wanted to be a villain though.

I still have a dream on becoming one the best heroes there can be on this world. I'll succeed for my dad.

For my mom. If she's still watching me.

Broken || Neito Monoma X ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now