"I'm so sorry, I never meant for this to turn out like that, I just..." Alexander trembles, his breath uneven; erratic.
"You have to, if not now, the distant future. My father held me at gunpoint for it. Abandoning your children is just a way of life..." Henry stated, almost as if he was proud and confident about it. Such a thing made him pleasantly smile, a twisted, awful smile. The kind you only see in an absolute sociopath.
"They... They never treated Rebecca like this... she's flawless in their eyes, why can't he be like them?" Alexander huffed, distraught. His breath finally came back.
"She's not family. She's your sister's daughter. Only one member is ever dropped. And Philip's the lucky one" Henry chortled, being a maniacal masochist is not all it's cracked up to be, but Henry clearly thinks otherwise.
"I love him, Hen. What do I do?" Alexander wheezed, Henry's words cut through Alexander like a clean knife. Alexander, dripping with metaphorical blood, got up. Sick of the show Henry's playing. He decided he's going to cut the puppet strings. He's going to stand up, and take a blow at Henry. His own biological father. Arms raised, Alexander walks closer to Henry. Alexander, filled with physical youth, and yet mental age, sighs. He drops his balled up fists, and moans.
"You're weak, Alexander. You know that? Everybody in this family is special. Me, a mage of hypnosis. Mastering the abilities only the chosen few have, and you? You don't even have a job. You're in your forties. Sure, you're married. You've got a kid? Big whoop. You lie to yourself... all you do is make lies to comfort yourself, and ball up your pain. You bottle up your rage as if it's some rare insect." Henry shouts, snapping his aged head back, gripping his cane tight "You never got it. Did you?"
"I'm not weak. I just..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes... You are the one that doesn't understand. All you do i-"
"Oh, you're kidding. You're pulling that card?" Henry frothed, filled to the top with anger. He slams his cane down, and tosses it aside. His eyes a dark sangria. Alexander evidently doesn't understand anything of what Henry is capable of. Spinning his cigar, Henry slams it down. "Well? What're you gonna do about it? You gonna run away with that... that boy? Philip's as weak as you are. You two won't last as long as you're worth." Henry bites down on his cigar, and billows out four neat circles of smoke.
"Maybe I will..." Alexander gets up, and picks up his briefcase, furious. "You'll remember this, Hen."
"No I won't. Just get out already" Henry coughs, setting down his mahogany cigar, crimson at the tip, he smears it into ash, killing the flame. "He just doesn't get it. He really doesn't."
YOU ARE READING
diary logs
Mystery / Thrillertake what you will of it. it is all canonically accurate, and fits into the story as much as you want it to. put the pieces together.
