Trigger Warning! Yandere! Toxic Family Relationships! Mentions of NSFW!
Children are often described as innocent, as blank slates.
No child is born evil. In that sense, maybe this was a self fulfilling prophecy, one that you dealt a hand in.
You tried making yourself feel better about the situation, arguing that your circumstances weren't ideal either, not with that sick bastard as your husband. Not when he forced himself upon you as he whispered affirmations of love. The same ones he used to justify locking you in his home as an ornament at most if he was feeling kind enough. What he did on other days, you wished not to recollect, not when the mere thought of him sent shivers down your spine and left a knot in your stomach.
When you were given the opportunity to run, you took it. Even heavily pregnant as you were, you ran. And by some miracle, you were able to see your children born into a life without your husband. Twins, both boys. One looked like you—well, maybe more like your mother, and the other? He was the spitting image of your husband, hair, eyes, even the small mole under his lip was an exact replica of your husband.
You tried to be impartial to your children, even if you spent your entire life looking over your shoulder and double checking if all your doors were securely locked, even if you lived in perpetual dread. You tried to be good but you couldn't help but hesitate when he looked so much like his father. You were sure he noticed too, he was much quieter than his younger brother. A troublemaker at school but adamant on never opening up to you.
It was your own fault, you tried to make things right as you finally grew comfortable enough in your life, but he was hesitant now as you were before.
Neither of your children knew of their father, no stories, no pictures and your blatant refusal to tell them any stories of him. They would never know of that man, you swore to take it to your grave.
Well, maybe you would've had you not seen your son smile so brightly when talking to you of this nice man he met in the park while accompanying his younger brother.
Insisting you meet him as well, a certain childlike glint in his eyes—one you feared he had lost. He seemed so happy, you couldn't say no now, it would undo all the progress you had made.
Who would've thought that man would be your husband, the one you spent all these years running from, the same smile, the beauty mark under his lip. Maybe the only thing your son lacked was that look in his eyes your husband had, the one that promised you punishment for all the trouble you had put him through these past years.
Your youngest seemed fond of him too, happy to have another playmate beside his elder brother who found it more enjoyable to tease him.
They were both over the moon when they found out who he was, much too young to understand the nuances of marriage or to question why their mother used to refuse even mentioning him to them.
Your son used to only resemble your husband in appearance but now, as he introduced you to his fiancé. As you saw the familiar look of discomfort and fear on her face, you could tell he resembled his father in more than just that. He had the same cold look in his eyes, the same patronising tone as he treated you as a child who didn't know any better even as you tried to reason with him, explaining that relationships couldn't be built on fear. But he had always seemed to listen to his father more.
After all, father never hesitated when showing him affection or words of affirmation, not like you who seemed so much more preoccupied with his younger brother. In his life, his father will always be a hero, and his mother a villain.
