Blood Buddy / Fransykes

Chapter 22

"I'm so sorry, but there's just no way that this child can live a normal life."

"Wh- how!?"

"I'm terrible sorry, sir... by this age, your child should be able to interact with other children as normal. I'm afraid his development will be slow."

Doctor... doctor. This, is a doctor.

"You know what, let's get out of here." My dad grabbed onto me, lifting me up. My mother looked... unbothered.

We exited the white room. White, that was the colour of the room. My mum looked angry now, she looked really angry.

We walked outside, walking up to my dads car. Red, the car is red. I knew the colour red, I had just learned it, right? My dad threw me in the back of the car, fastening my seatbelt. All of his body language signalling rage. Him and my mother got into the front seats, I felt the car start to move, but the outside was a blur to me.

"This is all your fault." My dad seethed through gritted teeth. "If you would have just let that child interact with other children, instead of keeping him locked in his room all day, we wouldn't be fucking dealing with this!"

"Well, what can you do?" My mother shrugged, but she still looked mad. 'Why is she mad? What's going on?' I remember thinking these exact thoughts. "I see it as a good thing, actually. It means he won't feel any remorse if he were to take a life."

"Do you even hear yourself!? He's three years old! He should be out playing with other kids, going to nursery, but no!" My dad yelled. I looked up at him, but couldn't process his face. It was just... gone. His face didn't seem to exist to me. "I tried my best, but I just can't take it anymore! You made me have this child, yet you can't even take care of him!"

"What do you mean? I am taking care of him. Look at him, he's got the perfect facial features. I knew you were the right person to choose." My mother's angry expression had faltered, turning to a less-serious one.

"Choose? More like forced! Is that all your own son is to you, his looks? What's even the point in raising him to be a killing machine! Why, why?" My dad sounded upset, but I still couldn't see his face.

"Don't take it so serious. If his looks are good, people are more likely to trust him, that's all." My mother sighed, clearly sick of my father. "I don't think you understand, I had to have this child, I need him to carry on my business when I'm older."

"I can't do this anymore..." My dad sounded as if he began to cry. "I can't, I can't. I need to go.. I need to move away.."

"Suit yourself." My mother shrugged casually, seeming unbothered. "But won't that make you a terrible father? Leaving your son, to grow up with a deadbeat dad? With me?"

"I know you won't let me leave." My dad stopped the car, as I had stopped feeling that motion of driving. "I'm not saying I'm leaving you and never telling you where I've gone to." I heard him sigh, but couldn't see him sigh. "I... I'll move, I'll tell you where I am, just please... I want to leave, please.."

"Fine." My mother spoke, causing everything to go quiet.

"...Really? Are you being serious, you'll let me leave?" My dad sounded ecstatic.