Adopted by Luke Hemmings

Chapter 10

Collin's point of view

"It started when I was maybe six, or seven." I told him and he nodded. "My mum and dad aways argued and my older brother would hide me away in his room to listen to music out on his balcony."

My hands tightened around the mug and Michael just looked at me as I spoke. "My dad always told us how he thought our mum was so lazy and never did anything. I remember it, every word. She doesn't cook. She doesn't clean. She doesn't help out either the kids." I said and looked at him.

"As I got older, it was constant. Everytime we were together he'd get angrier and angrier because he couldn't leave our mum. Not only did he not have a job to pay for the divorce papers and but she wouldn't let him. He told me. He said when he tried to leave her, she hid away all of his things, including the car keys and his clothes and stuff." I told him.

"Then, with the pressure of my dad's secrets, I had school drama. I wasn't popular and I wasn't smart. My grades never hit above a 'C' basically and I had the constant teasing and taunting from my peers. I was like nine Michael. Nine years old and I was being told I'm a loser and that my dad wants to divorce my mum. That I was a waste of space and useless." I practically cried to him.

"And-And then my brother left us for the army because that was his dream. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to save lives and fight." I said and raised my shakey arm so I could drink some of my hot chocolate.

"Mum was a mess and dad kept yelling and throwing things. It got so bad that they'd both leave and I'd end up home alone at ten and eleven. I had to care for myself a bit and deal with things myself because I couldn't tell anyone. I had to be mature." I told him and he nodded.

"Teachers kept telling me that I'll never amount to anything with the way I act and the way my grades are. They said if I can't learn how to focus I'm going nowhere in life but to live in a garbage can." I said and chuckled even though it wasn't funny.

"Then my dad still couldn't get a job and my mum was working almost every day to keep the house and bills caught up. I mowed lawns, sold my games, did whatever I could to help because they're my parents, I had too. I didn't have a choice." I told him and my throat tightened.

"Then-Then one night when the bullying got bad, I went to their bedroom because my dad kept a gun in there for emergencies because he told me he got robbed one time." I said, swishing the dark liquid in my mug.

Michael's eyes widened and I chuckled humorlessly. "I was eleven. Eleven Michael. I was bullied because I wore the same two outfits to school because we couldn't afford clothes and because I was shy, quiet, and awkward. I was told my dad wanted to divorce my mum and my brother, my hero, wasn't there with me."

"It just got too much ya know? Too many secrets. Too much violence. Too many 'I don't care's and not enough 'I love you's." I said and gulped down the lump in my throat. "I wanted to end it. I did. It would have been pretty fucking great at that moment."

"Collin-"

"But I didn't." I said, cutting him off. "I couldn't. I wasn't... I couldn't bring myself to do it despite how much I wanted too. It felt so wrong, but it also felt so right. I remember holding that gun to my forehead, the cold metal, the rush of adrenaline, all of it." I told him and his eyes watered.

"I put the gun on the kitchen counter and left it there to go to sleep. When I woke up, there was screaming and shouting and crashes. I had to see what it was and I wish I hadn't." I said and sniffled.

"Co-Collin, you can-you can stop-"

"My dad, he was pointing a gun at my mum. He was-He was screaming about how she never did anything and how he was tired of her. And-And she was begging him not to and it was just-"