Save Me

I walked through the airport, bag in hand, wanting nothing more then to rewind time. I don't want to be here. I have no desire to see him, so why must I continuously be forced to do things that I don't like? A scowl made its way onto my face as I rounded a corner, my eyes quickly connecting with the identical ones of my father. I can't even begin to explain how much I hate my eyes.

A huge smile spread across his face as he pushed off of the wall to begin walking towards me, a sneer making its way onto my lips. He approached me, arms open wide as if the buffoon expected me to actually want to hug him, so I thrust my bag at his chest instead. He can fucking carry it if he wants to reconnect with me so badly. He took the bag, holding it close, a slightly shocked express on his face before quickly recovering, smiling at me again.

"Morgan, you've grown so much," he said around that annoying smile of is. I just want to pull my fist back and wipe that damn grin off of his ugly face.

I allowed my eyes to wander up and down his body, the body that was so different from the man I once knew. He's gaining weight and his hair is quickly graying. "You've gotten fat," I said deadpan, pushing past him, not caring if he follows me or not as I set off in search of the car.

I didn't bother looking back at him, but the lack of anger filled footsteps following me led me to believe that he's frozen in shock, shocked that his once angelic son has turned into such a menace. It's his fucking fault, he shouldn't be surprised, someone had to teach me that the world isn't a happy place. I growled when I heard his footsteps following me, slight wheezing following. God, he's so fucking fat and ugly.

He caught up to me and put his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to jerk it away. "Don't fucking touch me," I growled, turning towards him. I don't care that he's got five inches on my five foot seven frame, I'll pummel him into the ground.

He looked at me, raw confusion evident in his eyes. He probably thought I was a fucking naive angel or some shit. "The car's this way," he spoke softly, still trying to figure me out as he turned right, stopping in front of an orange Lamborghini Gallardo LP 560-4 Spyder. Holy shit, that's a fucking bad ass sexy car.

"Nice car," I admitted begrudgingly, admiring the Italian beauty. This car was just like sex on toast. Who would be crazy enough not to love an Italian sports car?

"It's yours," he said proudly, handing me the keys and sliding into the passenger side. I forced a gracious smile his way, waiting for me to be out of view before I snorted, a victorious smirk replacing my forced smile. He's trying to buy me. What a fucking fool. He'll never be successful, but hey, if the dumbass is willing to buy me hot cars and free booze, so be it.

I jumped into the passenger seat, giddily stomping on the gas, having no worries for speeding restrictions. I flipped through stations, looking for something with nice metal instead of that pop and hip-hop shit, smiling triumphantly as Aerosmith blared through the cars speakers, turning it up to full blast so that my father would have no way of talking to me unless he was giving me directions to his new mansion. He's probably fucked his way through his line of work to get to the position he's in now, he's a fucking man whore after all.

My mouth dropped slightly when I pulled into the driveway, but I coughed, quickly covering it up before he noticed. I slowed down as I pulled into the garage, doing my best to ignore the other amazing cars. “Welcome home!” Dad said excitedly, throwing his hands up as he got out of the car, reaching for my bag.

I leaned down, grabbing my bag away from him before he could touch it. “This will never be my home,” I barked, stomping into the house through the door that was attached to the garage. I followed my instincts, guessing that my room would be upstairs, so I set off in search of the staircase, freezing at the site below it.

It was her. She’s not only a whore, a home wrecker, and a gold digger, but she’s fucking pregnant with devil spawn. I can’t believe he expects me to stay sane while living under the same roof as not only him, but her as well. Is he crazy? He’s still with her? She’s not better then mom!

“Hey, Morgan,” the bitch greeted. “I’m Patricia,” she said. A whorish name for a whorish lady, one that makes bile rise in my throat. “Welcome to our home.” She said warmly, a hand resting on her stomach as she reached her other out to me.

“You’re home?” I asked, brow furrowed, tone dripping with venom.

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “We’ve been married for a few years,” she said, grasping my father’s hand.

“Gross.”

“Excuse me?” She asked skeptically.

“I said gross. Who would want to marry a whore like you?” I spat, pushing my way past the bloated bimbo and up the staircase, knowing that up there would be the place that would be the closest thing to home that I’ll have while I am here.

I could scarcely hear a disoriented scream from Patricia and infuriated screaming spewing from my father’s lips, but I really didn’t care. Why should I care about the people who ruined my life? They’re fools, idiots, and probably are pompous rich bitches. I don’t know how else to describe them, besides saying that I absolutely despise people like them. People like them are what ruin the world.

I reached the top of the spiraling staircase and trotted down the hallway, bag thrown over the shoulder as I peeked into door after door. I passed the master bedroom, a bathroom, a nursery that was finished, probably for the devil that looks like it will be born any day now. I paused when I saw a white door at the end of the hallway, a tiny red bow on the doorknob. Jackpot.

I walked to the door, pushing it open and closing it quickly once I heard angry footsteps running up the stairs. I looked down and flicked the lock, laughing at how idiotic the man that I should call my father must be if he’d give me a lock on my bedroom door. I walked further in, smiling as I noticed that the room had everything from a big screen television, to a bathroom, to a mini fridge, to unlimited gaming consoles and a kickass sound system resting next to a very comfortable looking king size bed. He’s trying to buy me, the pompous jerk.

I threw my bag onto the bed as my bedroom door started to rattle from my father banging on it, screaming at me to open it up and speak with him. I did my best to ignore the sound, surveying my room, opening my mini refrigerator and taking out a bottle of water as I realized it was fully stalked with all of my favorite energy drinks. Brownie points for you, Dad, when you try to win someone over, you totally go all out, but you still end up failing because of your horrible attitude.

I threw my head back as I walked to the door, groaning as I opened it to reveal the horrifying figure of the man I am forced to refer to as my father. He was red in the face, sweat covering his brow, and his hand was raised in the air as if he was about to punch through the wood of my bedroom door.

“You rang?” I asked sarcastically, leaning against the wall as I crossed my arms over my chest, calmly sipping my water.

I held in a chuckle as I realized that he was so angry that he could have smoke rising from his bald head and huge ears. His ears could comically be compared to those of Dumbo the Elephant.

“I don’t expect this level of disrespect from you while I put a roof over your head!” He fumed.

“Oh, so you feel obligated to shelter me, your son, your first born? You don’t really want to shelter me?” I asked, standing up straighter and looking directly into his eyes. He sounds like housing his own flesh and blood is a chore, an obligation.

“I never said that, stop twisting my words around, Morgan!” He screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “Don’t you ever treat Patricia like that again. She is a kind and caring woman!”

“Kind and caring?” I screamed in his face, completely incredulous. “She ruined my life! Because of her, I grew up without a father!” I glanced over his shoulder, seeing her standing there and decided to speak to her. “She is nothing but a gold digging whore that will probably leave you for an eighty year old man if he had more money.”

“Shut up!” He screeched.

I cut him off. “If you have so much money, why didn’t you help mom? You wouldn’t have had to take me in if you helped mom, but you didn’t help mom. Mom is dying because of you and your selfish ass! Did you know she’s going to be dead by the end of the summer? Are you really this stupid, Dad? I bet you didn’t pay because the bitch over there told you to.”

I looked at him, rolling my eyes as I saw that he was consumed with shock. “Don’t play the dumb card with me Dad,” I muttered. “I know that you knew she was dying. You’re just a selfish jerk off and I can’t wait to get out of here as soon as possible. I hate this place, I hate this house, I hate your new wife, and most importantly, I hate you. I’m ashamed to be associated with you,” I spat, glaring at him as I slammed the door in his face.

I stomped across my room, growling at how idiotic he is. He’s the reason my life is ruined and I’m never going to let him forget it, the stupid whore!

I ignored the banging that started up again, walking over to my window and opening it, crawling out onto the roof. This is a beautiful view, a great place to think and be alone; I’ll have to remember this for the future. I walked to the edge of the roof, noting how his knocking has grown to be more consistent, and growled as I leaned over, holding onto the gutter as I slowly slid down it, shoving my hands in the pockets of my black skinny jeans as I landed on the ground with a muted thud.

I walked around the house, following the sounds of the crashing waves in the ocean. They lured me in, making me happy that the one positive about this horrific nightmare was that the beach was my backyard. The beach used to be my sanctuary and I’m hoping that after years of being away from it, it will welcome me back with open arms.

I slipped my vans and my socks off, smiling as I felt the particles of hot sands squish under my feet and between my toes, carrying me along the shore as I admired the beautiful view and began to relax, forgetting that I’m currently living in a nightmare. I smiled as I noticed a part of the beach that was occupied by a lot of people, a lifeguard chair in the middle, a beautiful god-like silhouette sitting atop the seat. Oh, God, that boy looks delicious from afar.

I advanced closer, a smirk on my lips. I really need someone new to mess around with; it’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid. I passed little kids building sandcastles and attractive women sunbathing, but I was really focused on the boy in the stand. He was alluring and sexy, mysterious and suave, someone that I want to get to know and unravel, nothing compared to the tan women lying on the sand atop colorful beach towels.

I noticed how his posture was relaxed as his eyes scanned the beach, curly blond hair cascading down his forehead, reaching the tip of his aviator sunglasses that sat atop a perfectly adorable nose. Plump, luscious lips were right below said nose, a curvy chin with a cute little dimple underneath those lips. The skin covering his body was tan, stretching over well toned muscles that rippled under the son.

Yes, this boy will be fun to play with.

I drew closer, ready to introduce myself when I saw it. A tiny little birthmark on his left ribcage in the shape of a heart, something he always used to be ashamed of, but I found completely adorable. It’s always manly and sexy to be able to wear a birthmark like that with pride.

I stumbled backwards, turning around and retreating, not believing what was happening. It was him. It was really him!

I turned around and started to run in the opposite direction, not caring about how much of a maniac I probably looked like right now. I could scarcely catch a glimpse of his face as he turned his head towards my retreating figure, shivering when I realized that it really was him.

My brain is on overload, not being able to comprehend anything. It’s like this nightmare is just getting worse.

Why is my past continuing to come back and haunt me?