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Inevitable

I get home from school and walk in the door.

Nothing.

No greeting, no acknowledgement.

This is not normal.

"Mom?"

Silence.

I sprint up the stairs, a bad feeling in my gut.

I burst into my parents room, to find my mother in bed.

"Mom‽"

No response.

I walk over to her to find a body of lifelessness.

Not that the sickness left much in her, anyways.

I pause,

Then begin to walk to the basement.

I curl up on my bed and begin to weep.

2 days have passed.

My stepfather and sister are still grieving, but the times of tears are long gone for me.

We have moved into a smaller house, in the downtown area.

Money is so tight, we feel its constraints on our stomachs.

Hatred for me is constant.

They never liked that much in the first place, and now that mom's gone, well...

What's there to stop them?

1 year after.

It's been a year of shit if I've ever known one.

My stepfather never really recovered from her death, and squanders all our money on alcohol.

He's out of a job, and welfare keeps us going.

Due to his constant drunkenness, he doesn't have any limits for hating me anymore,

I can't even talk to him without being insulted about my "failure at being a son".

But I have a plan.

Every two weeks, we go Friday evening to see our father for the weekend, and return Sunday.

Well this time, I'm not returning.

Fucking shit.

It didn't work.

My stepfather refuses to give me up.

And my biological father can't do anything about it.

Luckily, I always have a plan B.

My gun.

It can release me from this damned reality.

I put it to my temple,

Then pause.

I walk up to my stepfather's chair.

"Hey Dad, watch this."