DEPRIVED || GUZMA

9|| Reality is always unfair

Y/N

. . . Dad?

"Yes sweety it's me, your father."

*Beep Beep Beep*

My lids escaped there grasp and I choked on the air that tried to enter my lungs. Even though my body wouldn't function I was able to fall off the soft brick my body once laid on. My arms were tapped to something and I ripped it out without a second thought. Blood started to ooze from the exposed line and I felt my knees buckle from under me.

*Ping*
". . . Dad?"
"Sorry sweety, just seeing you here alive and well makes me believe you never cared."

"Did you never care about your mother? Did you ever care for me? I loved you, and this is how  much you loved me?!"

"It should've been you, not your mother. It had to be you..."

I screamed in agonizing pain. My guts, my lungs were ablaze and my thoughts recalled on what happened that warm night. Something grabbed me and I let it. What happened that night, I didn't believe would ever happen, and yet it did between my two delusional eyes. Why? Why would my own father want to hurt me? 

Something pinched my skin, and my eyes became heavy. The adrenaline I once felt became a figment in my bones. Nothing left my mouth as I rolled back into that fantasy I've always wanted to be in, that beauty of love and someone to hold. But in the end, they left, to let me suffer in my continuous idea of twisted reality.

They were both kind, loving parents and always seek warmth from each other. Although, my father's timid touch that night was cold as ice and had a sharp tinge to it making me sliver away and look at him incredulously. His eyes were coated with black and had an evil aura coming from every pore in his body. I was so caught up in the fact he was alive, alive and well if you can even call him that now. At the same time, I was relieved he didn't get caught up in the mess I created, and when he pointed the gun at me it came rushing back. The memories I loathed over for the past three years. All he wanted was revenge for his dead wife, and he pointed it at his daughter. The fury for revenge started with me and all the traces of this fucked family gone and done with. When the bullet hit me in my abdomen I came to believe I deserved his relentless attack. I couldn't understand why I didn't move away or grab him, because I knew I was capable of doing such a thing. Almost like I was accepting death at that very moment.

"How about you get your sorry ass back home huh? No one wants you here, neither do I."

...Guzma

I'm sorry. I should've never told you all the hurtful thing I've said to you. You never deserved them, and I'm the one who needed to be called out for my doing. I was too weak and scared to realize it was me who created my future and now I was just too stubborn to take it in with a grain of salt. Just thinking of how I treated you made me sick. How I talked shit behind your back made me feel good at the time, but it only created a barrier between you and I. If I got too comfortable with you I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for knowing you fell into the deep black hole with me. But, to be perfectly honest you already did, you probably fell down it before I ever did. It's sad to know were too similar for our own good. It's sad to know we're not opposites, we're just both deprived kids with a rebellious history.

^^^^^^^^^^

"How are you feeling?" A woman in her mid-thirties with a gentle frame with a tight black skirt and a buttoned-up shirt asked me. I didn't bother to look at her since my eyes were still adjusting to the light in the room. My breath was steady and shivered once or twice when I woke up. I was a rollercoaster and it wasn't fun at all.

"Do you want an honest answer?" She nodded and I exhaled too hard and it made me cough and it burned my insides. "I don't feel like giving it to you then," I said honestly. She let out a gentle hum or was it agitated? I was too dazed to question. "Take your time, I'll be right back." She left and also left her clipboard. Bored out of my mind I grabbed it and looked it. Ah, I guess she's my 'get well' buddy, but why would she leave this here? Was it intentional? I should stop questioning everyone's motives. I placed it back on the nightstand and looked at the ceiling. When was I gonna get out of here? I didn't know at the moment but I hoped it was soon staying here was worse than hell. Actually, did I have any health insurance? Fuck, I hope so...

Eventually, she re-entered the room and continued rambling about my situation. I kept my mouth shut most of the time since I didn't need to share my very existence to a flipping stranger. At the moment I wanted someone I knew around me, but who was I kidding, I had no one and I never did. "When am I getting out of here?" She tapped her pen against the paper and smiled. "Soon I believe. They said your wound will be healed enough that you could move." I thanked her and grinned. About damn time I thought. Staying in hospitals is a total hassle.

What was awaiting me outside I wonder? I still don't totally remember after I got shot but most of it was clear as day. Once I got shot I heard another one fired off five minutes later, and something I couldn't place called out my name, their voice was familiar I just couldn't tell who it came from. But I did have a hunch.

One of the nurses came in and talked to me for ten minutes and I was about ready to leave. At first, it was difficult getting out of the hospital bed since I've been sleeping on it for the past three days. My wound still hasn't fully healed but I was able to leave since I'll be getting out of here sooner rather than later. They lend me my old clothes and my t-shirt had a hole in it, probably from the bullet.

I signed out and left the gigantic building.

It was cold out and from what I could tell it was going to rain soon. The clouds were dark and they grumbled. Thunder was a probability to.

I walked in the grass and all the wild pokémon were scarce. I'm thankful for that since I didn't have my own friends. Thinking about that made an unsettling feeling in my stomach. Hope they're not worrying, I'd hate to cradle them like the cute babies they are.

I stopped walking and looked behind my shoulder. It was that ominous house I'd pass sometimes. But this time it was calling to me, it was asking for my presence. I steadily paced myself up to the door and knocked on it slowly. It was quiet, quiet enough it made my ears ring. A rush of regret consumed me, like a typhoon of weary.

*CREAK*

The door slowly opened and a woman peered through the crack. Her face drooped from age and had snowy hair. Her brown eyes looked dull, with no life. Her lips parted and closed again.

"Can I help you?" Her voice was dry, raspy to the ear. Made me flinch from how sandy she sounded. "If you want something, me and my husband have nothing to give." My brows came together and I looked at her with interest.

"I think you do have something to give..."

__________
I am truly sorry for postponing my progress, coming up with ideas are becoming scarce but I'm pulling through.
I truly hope you enjoyed, and have a great day.

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