To Catch A Dream

Bailey Part Eight

Cover by meha_k !

It's two past noon, and I guess Daddy dearest has entered into a slightly more pleasant mood, meaning that he is slightly more bearable. But not that much. I rush down the stairs and saunter down the narrow hall. Dad is in his room and I can hear muffled sniffs and sobs. Is he crying? I was forbidden to cry, and I still am, because Dad says it's a sign of weakness, and he cannot have his strongest weapon bear a flaw. I detached myself from emotions, thinking it will help that pain, that insufferable pain to stop from this hell-bent reality. But all it has done is make it worse.

I open the door, and he turns around his face all blotchy with tears. I'm a bad person for this, but I do not feel a twinge of sympathy for him. After all, he's just a monster, but then again, so am I.

...

When his gray-blue eyes look into mine, I look away, not daring to face them. His eyes immediately turn cold when I perform this gesture.

"What?" he whispers, his voice is like poison, fogging my brain.

I stand up straighter, trying to look bigger, stronger. Confident. But there is only so much I can do my size. Me, standing at 5 '6'', Dad is a good six inches taller, so it doesn't really matter anyway.

"Dad," I say in a low, clear voice.

"What?" His eyes are the same as mine. Cold and calculating. Fire playing with fire.

" I-I decided I want to see. Experience, and live in the real world." I replied, my voice strong and steady.

" You have, and what more could you want? Indulgence will bring you down."

This is not going to work. I am merely mirroring my dad, I must be better than him. So I use the only thing that will work. My training.

"You want me to become the next Hitler, huh? How can I become that if I don't see the real world properly? You say you need the truth to be at your strongest, but right now I'm locked up, and my life has been a lie so far. Maybe you and I can reach an agreement. I say outside for seven hours a day, exploiting people's weaknesses for practice. It will hone me into that invincible weapon. A born killer. A face to be feared across the country. I promise to come back as the clock strikes three. I promise. Just let me do this." I finish. It's not a lie, it's just half the truth.

He looks at me. Assessing every move. Almost glaring at me. Then he smirks.

"Maybe you can, but only if it's for your training. Nothing else." The last words cut through the silence, like a dagger.

I stared at him for a second, and turn around. He slams the door shut, and I stride to the attic, pumping my fist into the air, as a sign of victory. But nothing compares to the thought that flashes through the mind as the cold metal of a gun slips through my hand.

I get to go to school.