The Protector (Discontinued)

Chapter 22. Why? (Last part)

Yes, I'm not doing a chapter for Sang since we hear so much from her in the rest of the story.

We all know that, by default, Victor is the focus this time right? It took at while for me to think what to do, so I'm sorry is this sucks...

Next chapter is gonna be and Q & A so be prepared to ask questions this chapter...

Preferably here ----------------->

Thank you!

I hope you've liked the past few chapters! There's been a few since I wanted to atone for taking so long to actually get back on my feet, so yeah... Thanks for sticking with me.

I just wanted to quickly explain why it's been so long and why I lost my inspiration a while back...

It's a pretty big list so be prepared...

My nan got diagnosed with a rare cancer in her stomach that doctors don't know how to treat, so it's pretty trial and error...

My other grandpa had a heart attack and was in pretty bad shape for a while.

The grandpa married to my nan listed above had panic attacks in the car when he tried to drive her to the hospital for her chemo.

So yeah, things were pretty tough, and I didn't have the dedication or the right mindset to continue, but things are better now, so thank you guys for waiting for me, I really appreciate it!

Here's the chapter you've been waiting for after all the sob ranting...

Enjoy!

_______________________________________

Victor's POV

My life was noisy.

Loud and at the same time, so quiet.

There would be yelling for hours on end, and yet the rest of the day would be so silent that I would want to rip my hair out in complete and utter frustration.

In other words, everything contradicted.

Nothing matched, but at the same time, everything was 'perfect'.

Nothing I did went unseen or unheard, yet they nothing about what I do.

It's was odd. Yet at the same time it felt normal.

Everyone knew me, but nobody knew me.

It was like looking through one way glass, and seeing a mirror. It showed myself to be alone, and yet there was always someone there, watching, waiting for me to trip and make a mistake.

Maybe that was why I hated being on stage.

Maybe that was why my father hated me.

Maybe that was why my mother was never really interested.

There was nothing I could do on my own, without someone breathing down my back, saying that I shouldn't do it.

I appear, on the outside, calm, collected, quiet, normal.

But on the inside...

That's a different story...

On the inside,
                           There was InSaNiTy.

Nothing was right and nothing was wrong.

If everything was neither way, while being both, how did I know what to do?

All I knew, from a young age, was that all that existed inside my dark, empty, bright and bustling home, was pure and utter confusion, clear and precise.

Nothing worked. Yet it all worked like clockwork.

What's wrong with me?

Why does it work this way?

Why do I lived this way?

How do I survive?

Why do I survive?

How do I know that when I close my eyes, even for a second, that wonderland won't appear before me?

How do I know it's not already here?

All I know...

                      

Is that there's no escape.

                            WeLcOmE tO hElL sWeEtHeArT!?!?