More pain filled my veins, a high starting to build in my bloodstream.
“Good!” I growled right in her face, before continuing, “Maybe I can destroy my father’s perfectly, perfect life, or maybe he has other kids that I can hurt. That I can taint with my bad behavior, or maybe even, destroy? A wife? A family.” The sinister smile I gave my mom caused her eyes to fill with terror; a look I had never seen her give me before.
I knew he had a family, and if I couldn’t hurt my mom, I would hurt them in whatever way possible. Had I been in my right mind, I might have regretted it or at least felt bad, but I didn’t and I sure as fuck wasn’t the one who started this shit. There was a hollowed out part in my chest that had formed. It was filled with a hate for myself, and for the things that I had done, and the way I made her feel, but even I knew there was no other way around it. When my mind was set on something I did what I needed to.
I knew then that I had to get the fuck out of this place. I needed to leave before I destroyed the whole bedroom or quite possibly the entire house at the rate I was going. Rage simmered just below the surface, and I knew I was on the verge of exploding even more; it was only a matter of time. I walked around her, as if she wasn’t standing right there, and headed straight toward my dingy closet. I needed to find a pair of shorts and a hoodie then get the fuck out of here. The least I could do was end my last week or night here with my mom in the only way I knew how to; with a good fight.
“You’re not leaving this damn house, Royal! I refuse to watch you continue to destroy yourself.” My mother tried to make herself look big, tried to make her words fierce. The truth was nothing she said or did could stop me from falling into the deep abyss. I headed toward rock bottom the second she said I was my father’s problem now.
I ignored her as if she wasn’t even in the room as I pulled the dark gray hoodie on, having already slipped into the shorts. Then I grabbed my phone off the dresser and shoved it into the front pocket of my sweatshirt along with my keys and wallet.
“I am. It’s either this or something far worse that I know we will both end up regretting.” I raised an eyebrow up at her, challenging her to disagree or try and stop me. I needed out. I was a caged, rabid animal on the verge of biting, and I didn’t have a rabies shot.
“Royal,” she said my name in the most defeated way I had ever heard. I wanted to run to her and wrap my arms around her. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay—that I would be okay, but even I didn’t know the truth in that. Okay wasn’t something that I even understood; to be okay you had to understand what was going on inside of yourself. I was a lost cause. Despite her best effort at raising me, somehow I still turned out fucked up.
“I love you, Mom,” I choked out the words as I opened my bedroom door. I stood there for a moment, hearing her soft cries resonate behind me. I wasn’t any better than my father. I wasn’t any better than anyone. I let that sink in as I headed down the stairs and out to my car a piece of shit Honda Civic. Not all of us had the luxury of nice things.
I fished my phone out of my pocket and called my friend Simon; he picked up on the second ring, a hello sounding on the other end of the line.
“I need a fight,” I growled the words as I started the car and put it in reverse, slamming on the gas pedal as I pulled out of the driveway. It backfired and then roared to life as soon as I put it in drive. I started down the road, heading toward the industrial park.
“Are you sure, dude? You just fought last night, and I’m pretty sure you have some type of concussion.” Simon tried to act like he was concerned for my health, but I knew the truth. He wasn’t, if he could put money on my fight and go home with some cash, he would.