"I can't pretend to be happy or sad" Michael muttered under his breath.
"i don't see wrong or right just an obligation to carry out a scripted hell"
as Michael tightened his grip to his Dads neck, the motion of bulging eyes and vain slowed as he let go........
"are you fucking crazy!"
his dad screamed rolling over to a melted down chair Michael earlier set on fire.
"what is wrong with you!"
his dad uttered with a confusion he was now getting use to.
"wrong with me...wrong with me, there is nothing wrong with me and i will not explain but only put you in pain the same you put me through as a kid".
Michael stands up and slowly, with a limp moves and faces the shielded window across the burnt room.
"i will never be bitter but i will always get my revenge, your a drunk, a hasbeen, a fucking freak of pop culture and you think I'm the one in the wrong!"
He glares at his dad and stares him square in the eyes....
"You are one of many I'd like to put through terror, one of many I'd kill in an instant but you are my dad so you disserve much more pain"
his dads eyes widen and now he knows Michael is serious. Michael falls to his knees and cracks his neck, the cancer that eats him tires his soul and Michael acts to finish the job. Nigel (Michaels dad) coughs from the fumes and tries to get up.
"what have you done to me?"
are the words he wasn't expecting to say to his own son.
"I want you to be as confused as i was growing up......i needed you when mum gave up, i needed my father but your love for drink overcharged my existence and now it's time for you to pay"
Michael grabbed the duck tape hanging out of his pocket and ripped it with force.
"What are y......"
Michael put the tape over his dads mouth and kicked him to the floor. There was no emotion or feeling on Michaels face, just an obligation to finish this pointless existence he earlier loved, adored and idolized. As Nigel fought to get away, Michael tied his dad to the rotten chair.....Michael, with a sniff from the cold, wiped his nose with his blood stained hand and picked up a solid steel pipe from a corner of the room and fell down to a seated position with his head as heavy as the weight of the world.....Michael looked down.....
"i don't hate you but you must pay"
he whispered to himself. Michael looked up with a tear in his eye, stood up and friskily run towards his Dad and screamed
"You fucking cunt!!! why, WHY didn't you make the right fucking choice, it's easy, so easy"
Michael cried uncontrollably
"so easy, so easy"
there was a silence...but with the sound of a slight wind coming through the battered window. Michael took a big breathe, smiled and left the room........
to be continued.....
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Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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