Agonium

"You're just like her!"

Leo is red in the face as he clutches the game controller even tighter. His eyes are shut, but he's crying.

The goddamned bastard.

"I'm gonna do what I want! You're not allowed to boss me around! Dad is my parent, not you! You're just like Mom!" He's practically spitting the words; they're little daggers and his shoulders are twitching slightly. I recognize him not as Leo; this brash anger all belongs to Dad.

I have failed raising him.

Even when Leo was little, even when we were waiting for Mom to come home, he was like this. One simple denial and he would tremble with a shriek as he threw a glass against the wall. He's a red-headed devil with hell burning in his stomach, and I've never been able to contain it.

I didn't know how to douse the flame. I only added fuel, I know. Every time I mentioned Mom, every time I raised my voice, every time I wanted to smack him, I was only making him angrier. But, I was just a kid myself and I didn't know any better. So, why can't I handle him now? I have no more excuses.

"Just take out the trash, Leo," I'm exhausted, "then you can keep playing your game." I sound of a mix of denial and anger, but ultimately, I know I sound weak. This has escalated quickly, I don't know how, but my fists are clenched, and my muscles are taunt. There's something coiled in my gut, and god, I just can't do this anymore.

Leo's growling out another comeback, but I don't hear him. There's a ringing in my ears, and I'm yanking the cord, letting the television screen go blank once again. It's always been an easy solution, but Leo stamps his feet.

"Bitch!" He snaps and throws the remote at my face. There's an audible crack right before pain starts blossoming along the bridge of my nose, and from the corner of my eye, I see him smirk.

I brush my hand across my nose. There's blood, of course there is, but it's already dripping down my chin. I don't think I've ever been angrier.

So, I snap. I can't hold back any longer, and Leo's too close. My hand's in the air, and I know this is going to be sweet. I hit Leo's jaw, and he's falling on his ass with a loud gasp.

"How the hell would you know what Mom's like?!" I'm shaking, I'm yelling. There's no one home to save Leo, Dad can't bail him out, so he's flinching away with every word. "You've had me, Leo! Just me! You never had Mom; Mom was mine, but you sure as had my sorry ass. And, I've done everything for you.

"I'm a fucking bitch, alright, but that's because I've been picking your shit up since the day you were born. Do you even know how much I've done for you? Do you even know how much I have given up for you? So, how fucking dare you treat me like this." My blood is dripping on his shirt from the angle, and there's going to be a bruise on Leo's jaw. I don't care.

I've been taking this abuse for far too long.

"I hate you."

He's crying. His breaths are shallow, and he's trying not to look at me, but those blue eyes peer up with fear almost constantly. He's watching me, trying to figure out if I'm going to hit him again. I'm trying to figure that out too.

I think I've been set on fire, and maybe kicking him will fix that. I don't though. I don't know why, but I back away. There's as much blood on his shirt as there is on mine. I wish it would be his blood.

I think I'm losing my mind.

He grunts, "I hope you fucking die." He tucks his knees into his stomach, and I want to puke.

I've already snapped, but now I'm shattering.

"Keep a candle lit." It's a dare, an insult. Leo needs me because I need him. It has to work like that, and if it doesn't, then I truly am at a lost. So, I leave the living room. I hide myself away in my bedroom; I do not want anyone to see me because Leo's right.

I'm becoming just like Mom.