Damn, I Hate You

I was shifting uncomfortably. I should get up. But something's wrong with my leg. The more I tried to move, the more it hurt. It's not broken, I know, but something's preventing me from getting up. I changed the position it was in and my knee popped. I gasped in a combination of relief and pain.

He was still sitting there crying. No, I wasn't sorry I'd said anything. I forced myself up, grunting with effort as I pulled myself up. "Stop crying. It's unattractive." I said coldly once I was finally able to walk. I staggered down the hallway and heard him as he stopped crying.

"Who do you think you are?" He asked once I'd finally reached my door. Oh come on! I'd accomplished making it to the door and now is when you decide to talk? Leave me alone, man!

"I think I'm Deryk Silva, and I'm really tired so imma go to sleep." I said rudely. Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!

"Don't talk to me like that. I need to talk to you, young man." He called across the hall. I slammed my door. There's nothing worse he could do to me at this point other than beat me so hard it made me numb, and that could only help me by now. Suddenly I felt so cold-hearted. God, Deryk, way to be a dick. I thought I was finally learning to be nice. Hmph.

"Listen, kid." He said, opening my door. "I only hurt you because you hurt me."

"Involuntarily! Don't even!" I yelled. He had his hand up ready to smack me, but when I stuck my chin up ready to take it, he stopped.

"The point is, I couldn't help it. If you knew how bad it hurt, you would be able to understand my side of it!"

"NO WAY! Don't try to make it sound like you're the one here that's been sufferring all these years! I'm the one who's been getting his assed kicked for nothing for the past, what is it now, ten years? I'm the one who's been hoping every night that you would come to your senses and realize that we could be a happy family, just you and me, only to have all my dreams of that crash down with every hit I take!"

"You're the one talking like a little fag with your 'poetry' shit. Don't make it sound worse than it is. You turned out alright. I couldn't help it!"

"Why are you trying to defend yourself? It's pointless. There's no excuse for this!" I said, pointing at my face. "Do I really deserve all of this?" I said, adrenaline blocking my nerves from feeling pain as I stood up and pulled my shirt of to show him all my scars, my bruises, my fresh cuts and my bandages to help my healing ribs. "I don't think so. Just because you're emotionally unstable, this is what I had to go through. Don't you cry as if you've been through so much, because it's clear to see which one was in pain out of the two of us." and with that, I pulled my shirt back on and fell onto my back on my bed, hands over my face in exasperation. Leave my room now. That's your cue to fix your mental issues by yourself, like they do on tv.

"This is different, Deryk." he said my name for the first time in a long time. It's always "Kid" or "Brat" or something like that. I was a bit shocked that he remembered it, to be honest! "This pain I've been through is psychological. It hurts in a different way."

"Yeah, and having your mom die while your dad gets drunk and beats you for crying about it doesn't hurt inside at all." I said sarcastically. "Face it, Dad, you've only been hitting me because you're afraid of loving me. Why can't you just figure out that I'm a good kid? I may seem like her, but you should be happy with that! I may look like her, but consider the resemblence God's way of saying she's still with you." I said, pretending to believe in whatever sadistic being was up in the sky watching as I suffered. No. There must be some sort of God, otherwise angels like Jaimie wouldn't exist. Grr, this is no time to ponder religion. Tear Dad down while he's already hurt!

"If you're such a good kid, why do you always get in so much trouble? Why do so many adults hate you? Why am I always getting calls at work about my 'perfect son' being in trouble? Explain that, Einstein."

"Passive aggression makes me act out in school and speak my mind. Lord knows I can't speak it when I'm with you." I said back.

"You talk as if you're so smart. Here you are, though, showing that you can't control yourself. Don't act like you're better than me. The same way I hit you is the reason why you talk back to your teachers!" Dad said. So he can argue! Well, I'm better, I bet.

"There's a huge difference. I'm still developing. It's natural that I behave like this. You, on the other hand, are the adult and should've taken the initiative in helping me. You should've seen after the first phone call that I was crying for affection and attention that I craved!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't be such an attention whore, little boy." he remarked.

"How about the fact that I never behaved violently?"

"Bull shit! First call I got was 'cause you punched a kid in the face!" he said.

"I was seven! Little boys always fight!" Why was I supposed to defend this now? This is stupid! He's avoiding the subject. "Stop hiding behind my past. The point is you have always been doing this to me and have no excuse and I'm sick of it!" I yelled. Shit, he wasn't crying anymore. He wasn't weak right now. I should've known to shut my mouth.

A tasted blood almost instantly. It was a good taste I'd grown accostumed to. Fuck, my head was spinning. I saw flashing lights, but as I rested on my bed, everything became clear again and my head was killing me. "I don't have to plead my case, you lil bastard. Suck it up." he said angrily over me.

"Dude, you're so wrong. There's no excuse for it. Haven't you seen those domestic violence commercials? According to those, it's never my fault." I smiled stupidly as I said this, too full of adrenaline to care anymore what happened. God, this is the worst yet best rush I've ever had; good because I finally spoke my mind; bad because I'd feel it in the morning.

He picked me up and threw me against the ground. Damn, he's really good at doing that. The air was knocked out of me then. I coughed, trying to refill my lungs as he spoke. "Of course it's your fault. Maybe at first, no, but as you got older, you just became a little dick." he said.

"Maybe that's because I was raised with no love. Either way, it's your fault, 'cause I didn't raise myself." I smirked. God, this was going to kill me. I guess I figured I was hurting him inside more than I was being hurt physically. Hopefully I was right so I wouldn't be doing this all in vain. He kicked me in my good ribs and continued kicking in my side. God, is he done yet? Am I really that good of a punching bag? I guess practice does make perfect. I tried to smile at my weak humor, but no such luck.

"You're such an ungrateful little fucker! I swear, you have no right to look like her! She was sweet and loving and smart and beautiful and... she was perfect!"

"And so am I. That's why you hate me, I know it. Just- God stop hitting me!" I grabbed at his foot but missed and ended up grabbing the leg he was on instead, and pulling as hard as I could, actually pulling him down. Wow, that was just luck! I got up and went over to his face right as he was going to get up.

"I don't think so." I said, punching him in the face. "You are such a heartless bastard! I'm still your son! I'm still part of you! I'm not just her, you could still love me! Just because most people find it hard to love me doesn't mean it's impossible, and all I've ever wanted was your love! Why couldn't you see that?" I said. He didn't look touched, more annoyed as I sat over him, threatening to punch him again as my arm was positioned.

"You're not perfect! You're nothing! You're a little brat who thinks you're so great. I hate that about you!"

"Someone has to think I'm great, and I was the only one who would!" I spat at him. I was pouring my heart out, but he didn't care. I'd lost him forever. Why was I bothering anymore?

"Stop being so dramatic! Get the hell off of me, stupid." He said, trying to push me off, but my fist met his nose swiftly and just kept beating down on him. He was so pissed off by now.

"I'm not getting off of you until you appologize! You took away my childhood and happiness and emotion and everything that makes me human for years just because you couldn't handle mom's death!" I yelled as I continued my barrage of punches. "There's no excuse for that! You have no idea how hard it is to realize that someone can care about you! I flinched the first few times people hugged me, you know that? I was scared when I had my first kiss! I couldn't feel love for so long! I wasn't human at some point, I was an empty shell unti recently and it's all because of you and I expect you to say you're sorry!" I yelled, ready to cry at any second.

He saw my emotion. "Aw, you gonna cry 'cause I won't appologize? Psh, you were better off without these so called emotions. Stop being a little girl. Your mom never wanted a girl and that's what she got, I guess." he mocked me. I stood up off of him.

I was shocked. A flame surged through me. With all my might I kicked him in the stomach and heard a loud crack. Then I stomped on his hand as it tried to grab me. "Fuck you!" I yelled as I continued to beat him. He was not getting away with that! I bent down and started beating his face it. Blood was gushing from his nose and mouth and I couldn't stop myself anymore. I grabbed his hair and slammed his head down on the ground. "FUCK YOU!!! How dare you say that!" I said, and stood up, kicking him in the face and running over his limp body as I ran to my closet. I filled a backpack with clothes and various other things necessary for over night adventures. I heard a groan of pain. Good, a murder would look terrible on my record.

I slammed the door as I left. He wouldn't die. He was a big kid now, afterall. I ran down the stairs to the cold city night. My jacket hugged me as the November breeze blew and I ran as fast as I could. This part of my life is over.