Sissy Boy

•Prologue•

Flashbacks in italics

Silence

The one thing keeping me from falling off the thin line bordering sanity and insanity. Oh how I love to always lose myself in the stillness of the atmosphere, getting drunk over it's calmness. However, it all tends to end the same way every night, by the loud noise following my drunken father as he swings the front door open aggressively.

Dad has never been the same since mom left us. I sigh, slowly flicking my wrist and swirling around the alcoholic wine in the crystalline glassware. I then shut my eyes as I allowed the memories to take me to my unintoxicated high.

Beep Beep

"I love you too" were the last words I uttered as I clutched dearly unto her side.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....

"Mummy no" I held her closer before feeling my body being pulled away by rough hairy muscular arms belonging to my father.

I kicked and struggled as my eyes leaked teardrop after teardrop. I screeched as I watched the doctor cover her pale face up with the thin blanket.

"Daddy leave me!" I shouted, extremely aggitated, but he never budged.

It was only a matter of seconds when I felt his own tears wet my hair, and at that moment, my limbs went weak. The grip my father had on me loosened and I collapsed weakly to the floor.

"Ryder!" And with that, my mind was pulled away from the painfully soothing memories.

I quickly gulped the entire glass down with a groan before heading out of the kitchen and into the living room area.

Reaching the living room, I was met with my father in his usual state. Tousled hair, blood red eyes, a rough over grown beard, tattered clothes with strange stains on them and the familiar scent of cheap booze disgustingly ozzing off of him.

"Hey kid, you been drinking my wine?" He slurred hiccuping in between words as his bloodshot eyes glared down at me.

"You're drunk dad. Again!" I yelled out, my hands balling up into fists as I skillfully masked my hurt in my bitter frustrations.

"So?" He asked scowling at me but I was unfazed.

"You need to stop fucking hookers and getting drunk while doing it-" my voice cracked making me take an agonising pause.

"-She's dead! Get over it!" I yelled out to him but I would be a liar if I'd said that that harsh reality check wasn't mostly meant for me. Before I knew it, I realised that my legs had already carried me up to my room.

I got my room soundproofed a month after her death. I needed more silence in my life, more emptiness that can only be filled up with the memories of when things were not as they are today.

It was a truth I have struggled for the last couple of months to willingly believe. My mother is gone and that is something that can not change. I remembered every feature, from her forest green eyes, scattered upon them were whites specs and lined with a dull grey to her thin curvy stature my dad would never fail to compliment any chance he got.

I quickly locked my bedroom door before desperately leaning unto it, pressing my half dead body against the cold Oakwood door. Everything seemed cold after she left.

A few tears began to slowly slip from my eyes as my body slowly slid down to the ground. It wasn't long before I was a wheezing mess on the floor, cringing as my body curled up to a ball of pent up sadness and frustration.

I immediately stared down at my hands as they began desperately clawing on every inch of exposed skin of my legs. I tried to stop myself but I just couldn't. I let my emotions take over. I only stopped a few minutes later when my legs were already stained with blood gushing from the very noticeable rugged scratch wounds.

It wasn't even long until I felt my body go numb with extreme weakness. I couldn't move a muscle, so I allowed my eyes to slowly flutter off to sleep hoping I'd get another one of those dreams where she promises to me take me with her into the light.

........

"Okay, bye love you" he whispered out the last part but I could still make out the words.

I felt rage bubble up inside me. So this is what he's been hiding all along. Anger clouded my brain as I pushed past the half open door, startling him.

"So this is what it is huh?" I snapped, glaring down at him.

Days of mental torture have turned to weeks, these weeks then proceed to morphed into months, these months now have compiled to form years. Three years, that's the amount of time she's been gone, that's the amount of time I've had to slowly die away.

"Ryder it's not what-" I snapped at him a second time, this time cutting him off.

"Don't say all that bull dad, it's been three years" I could feel the tears in my eyes begin to sting harshly.

"Three damn years dad!" my voice broke out, cracking and croaking.

Every day, I have watched my father grow, seeming to leave behind her memories. Forgetting how we were before she left. It angered me deeply when he'd just wake up, make breakfast then leave for work like the idea of just the two of us in a house was all too normal.

"Who is she?" I asked, my voice was more calm but still venomous.

"She's a nurse at the Rehab centre" he replied lowly.

"You were sent there to get help. Help!" I basically screamed at him.

"But no, you saw it as an opportunity to fuck some nurse bimbo" he lost it.

"Enough!" He got up abruptly, enraged.

"So much anger all for some woman you've only met for a short period of time" I chuckled bitterly, wiping away at the seeping tears that streamed down my cheeks.

"Admit it, mom's gone so you want to bring home your side-" a hard strike across my cheek sent me stumbling back.

I stared up at him, my hand instinctively reaching up to rub my stinging face. By now, the piercing glare he had had softened. His eyes were glossing, the hand he used on me still hanging, limp in the air.

I blankly gazed down at him, his pants were beastly but his eyes bore a weak and vulnerable man on the verge of insanity.

I couldn't believe my eyes. My father dared to raise a hand at me. Oh if she were here.

Time passes by and her memories still remain fresh in my heart like an engraving on stone, never to fade nor be washed away. This man here, however, seem to have allowed his heart to give up on her memories.

I don't know if any of you noticed but I'm trying to adopt a better writing style, I've been getting advise from NatureProductions and I think I've really improved, please I need feedback so I improve more.