The Seventh Son. (short story)

Part 10.

"Are you telling me he's a fag?!" 

he was beyond shocked, hands flying to cover his gaping mouth, how could she hurl out such words? he couldn't believe his ears, he didn't know that such a elegant woman like her knows such words, and to say it toward her only son? how could this be possible? all those tears and pleas to find her beloved son were fake? he always admired her for being a widow woman raising seven children alone and so perfectly or this was what he thought? he never questioned the way the daughters all flinch in fright and fear whenever their mother glanced their way, or the way they all act coldly toward the absence of their brother like they are forced to act that way, but seeing this angry beast in front of him he was sure that there's a reason behind that

"I asked you one motherfucking question and I'm waiting for an answer! or beleive me you won't like how I look when I'm angry!" she splattered the words, nostrils flaring, slamming her fist down onto the desk so hard he jumped, he could feel the menacing aura radiating from her by waves and he could have run for his life if he wasn't paralyzied from shock, the fold of memories holding him in a tightening grip, pulse beating in his ears, a gasp escaped his parted lips when this angry threat echoed in his head much louder than it should have, like he was transformed to his past self, past life when these exact words shattered his little love life

"I asked you one motherfucking question and I'm waiting for an answer! or beleive me you won't like how I look when I'm angry!" but the source of the voice changed, it's not coming from the fuming woman

Suddenly the modern and the messy surrounding falls to a pitch leaving him surrounded with darkness, the room was cold and completely dark and so quiet he can hear his ragged breaths, the fine hairs on the back of his neck raising in fear as his brain recognised the voice, the voice of the man that caused him just pain and misery, he wants the earth to open and swallow him so he can hide for the man that he should be running to, to protect him, the man he once called father

"This isn't real, this isn't real! he's dead!" he managed to sputter the words stammering over his shaking jaw, he pressed his back against the wall hugging his knees rocking his body back and forth as he kept assuring himself, he could feel the sweat drenching his skin, and the thumping of his heart against his chest

he knows what will happen next, he lived this scenario in real life and he lived it hundred times in his dreams or actually nightmares, he could feel his deadly presence, his heavy footsteps approaching him, his sinister laugh as his only son let out a whimper, he want to escape this, the reality that always find a way to creep in his head into his conscience,

His pulse raced and he tried to breath slowly to not show his fear toward the muscular man that's marching toward him in slow motion, but his muscles grew tense as he watched him approach with a baseball bat in his hand and everything turned black as he swing it his way

.
.
.

Everything blurred for a minute then came back into focus again, he found himself alone lying in a pool of vomit, he was alone so he assumed that his so called girlfriend left, she probably freaked out after seeing him having an episode, screaming and talking to himself like a maniac, he took a deep breath and he grimaced as it hurts so much, he inched his arms under his shaking frame and pushed himself up on hands and knees trying to avoid touching his mess, his head swam as he felt his stomach tighten from the pain and he stayed still for a bit, his eyes focused a little better and he crawled over the desk, he got hold of the edge and slowly got himself upright, he observed his surrounding to make sure that it's over, he knew it was just a dream, but he always felt the pain, physical pain, like he's living that scene once again

he starts collecting the mess he caused, he didn't dare to call his assistant or any employer as he knows that they all left this floor or even all the building after his outburst, it wasn't the first time they left him alone, and they aren't the first people who left him alone

I just want a hug

just a hug

he whispered to himself, a tear leaving his lifeless eyes as he kept collecting his mess.

-XOXO