Hatred Father
Elliots Journal DAY 1: As a kid, I never knew so much about humans, until I took one apart...just see how it works.
Warning this book contains topics such as; abuse, strong languages, manipulation, gore, and an unhealthy family relationship. Remember this is a fictional story all characters are a figment of my imagination but enjoy it.
As I screamed, my father wrapped his hands around my neck. “Die, Die, WHY WON’T YOU DIE!?” he screamed as he tightened his grasp, sealing off my windpipes as I screamed for help. Suddenly, a police officer burst through my upstairs door, which was drenched in blood from my father, who had killed my mother right in front of me while attempting to confront her for cheating. All of it was in his brain as a result of his mental distress from losing my sister, his riches, and being fired from all paying jobs, which caused him to drink continually as my mother begged him to stop as he grew irritated and snapped her neck.
“Then I remembered my father’s rage at my mother while feeling my blood rush to my brain and down to my gut.”
“I’m sick of you ruining my life; I had everything till you had him; you could have aborted the child when you still had the chance.” “How can you say such a thing to your son like that,” my father got increasingly irritated with my mother for having me, as I could hear halfway down the stairs as I watched them argue from a distance, like a silent fox waiting for his prey to emerge from the rabbit hole known as fear. I did not even mention that you gave birth to that devil into our house!“That was one of God’s angels, who saw God’s methods as child’s play.” My mother fell into a fury when she heard the remarks coming from that filthy bug known as my father.
Then, with all of that rage boiling inside her, she made a big mistake that got him so pissed off that without a second thought, he grabbed her neck tightly, turning it 360 degrees while I sat there like a sitting duck. I could not do anything to save her, which will scare me for the rest of my life as I whimper and sob. My father suddenly glanced up, noting that I had watched in horror what he had done to her. “Elliot?“, “Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room!?” as he attempts to climb up the stairs, as I hurry to my room and lock the door so he doesn’t get inside. WHACK! WHACK! When he burst into my door with ease, raising me off the ground by squeezing my neck as I tried to breathe, exactly as my neighbour, Ms Lewis, had heard my mother cry when she died as a consequence of her neck being twisted, right after my neighbour had called the authorities.
Then I heard two footsteps and realized the cops had arrived just in time, but without warning, they shot at my father, causing one single bullet to directly come out in front and back of his chest, causing him to slowly drop to the ground while he took one last good look at me, his hands slipping from my neck as he gazed into my angelic blue eyes and said one final sentence from his mouth. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me.” As my father leaves this awful world that I’ve made for myself as my new home.
