You know you shouldn’t be going through Mother’s things. A shiver of guilt runs through you, but you push it aside. She won’t miss a few trinkets, right? Of course not. You reach into her secret drawer, when your hand brushes against something…. a photograph? Why is that there? So you pick it up.
And then your blood freezes.
It’s a picture of your mother, looking somewhat younger than she does now. She looks so happy, smiling, but the man… that man pleasantly hugging her shoulders.
That’s not Father.
Your hand slowly raises to your mouth in horror. Those inconsiderate eyes, pale skin, the shape of his lips… everything is saying you are from the same genes. This man you've never met…!! ...The grotesque idea of a person with the same face as me reproducing over and over as if creating clones... I'll never have any kids! My father should have told me from the beginning. He could never love the child of his wife and another man.
Why didn’t Father ever tell you from the beginning? “You’re the child from my wife and another man’s affair—!!”
You run out of your parent’s bedroom, out into the living room. The tears are welling up in your eyes, but you holds them back, your lips curling into a snarl. You grabs a box knife and tears at a picture of the family together frantically. The hell with the happy family portrait. It was only an illusion built on thin ice. You all can continue acting out this fantasy!! I won’t cry over this. The thoughts tear savagely through your mind. If I cry, I’ll lose! I will not lose!!
07. Going through his mom's things and finding out he's a bastard child.
And then your blood freezes.
It’s a picture of your mother, looking somewhat younger than she does now. She looks so happy, smiling, but the man… that man pleasantly hugging her shoulders.
That’s not Father.
Your hand slowly raises to your mouth in horror. Those inconsiderate eyes, pale skin, the shape of his lips… everything is saying you are from the same genes. This man you've never met…!! ...The grotesque idea of a person with the same face as me reproducing over and over as if creating clones... I'll never have any kids! My father should have told me from the beginning. He could never love the child of his wife and another man.
Why didn’t Father ever tell you from the beginning? “You’re the child from my wife and another man’s affair—!!”
You run out of your parent’s bedroom, out into the living room. The tears are welling up in your eyes, but you holds them back, your lips curling into a snarl. You grabs a box knife and tears at a picture of the family together frantically. The hell with the happy family portrait. It was only an illusion built on thin ice. You all can continue acting out this fantasy!! I won’t cry over this. The thoughts tear savagely through your mind. If I cry, I’ll lose! I will not lose!!