Teenage Baby

Chapter 34

Leo's flashback ahead! Quick warning that it's very violent, so be careful ❤️

Chapter 34:

The stale, humid air in the basement brought a thin sheen of sweat across Leo's bare upper body; a single droplet trickled down his neck, and he shifted tiredly in his spot where he'd slumped against the wall as he wiped it off.

Leo watched the sharp knife held in his father's hand. The choppy, drab light from the rickety lamp swinging down the ceiling reflected onto the metal with glistens of shining white as he slowly turned it around, carefully allowing the piece of disinfectant-soaked cotton to rub into every inch of the blade.

"Leo," his father muttered as he disinfected the knife. "What an awful name. Just like you."

Leo didn't say anything, just watched silently. The older male finally finished, and he ran his finger softly along the sharp edge of the knife before smiling at his son. "Do you know that today is a special day?" he asked. "It's your birthday. It's a very special day. So, I'm going to give you something very, very special."

He slowly walked towards Leo, then crouched down until he was eye-level with him. "Look at my son becoming a man. Now you're thirteen!" He slapped Leo's shoulder, watching amusedly as he grunted and looked away in pain; there was a fresh wound tearing the skin there, and a burning pain ignited across the area as soon as his father's rough hand slammed onto it. "Nothing changed though. This little killer, bad, bad person just grew a year older. So who do you plan to kill next?"

"I don't want to kill—"

"Shut up," Leo's father said through gritted teeth, his hand quickly extending forwards until his fingers grasped the front of Leo's neck. They sank into the skin and pushed back until his head hit the wall. "That's all you do. Kill. Just like you killed your mother. Let's start today's lesson. Who killed her, Leo?"

Leo remained silent until the fingers around his neck squeezed it slightly. "I did."

"Say it all. What did you do?"

"I killed my mom." Leo's voice was monotonous; this conversation had happened countless times. His father would always torture him until he'd confess that he'd killed her, and Leo would say it even though he couldn't remember. He'd say it even though he'd never been sure himself, but as the days had passed he'd succumbed to the idea—he'd begun to accept at this point that he'd done it.

"And what did you do before you killed her?"

"I tortured her."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a bad person."

"Bad person. You're such a bad person, Leo." His father narrowed his eyes as he looked at him like he was looking straight at his enemy rather than his own son. "Why did you have to kill her? What did she do to you? You're so selfish. You're so bad." His voice had been a booming roar, but as he continued, the pain became apparent; it settled in glistening tears in his eyes, broke his voice. "We fought the world to be together. And when it worked out, we decided to have a child. And do you know what happened then, Leo?"

Leo shook his head weakly. His father continued, "We brought you to the world then. And what you did was kill my wife, your mom. You ruined everything. All the work we did to let everyone accept us, it all went to waste. Everything we did to be together, it all went to waste. And it's your fault! You killed her. You ruined my life. Don't you remember when it happened, Leo?"

Leo let out a cry as soon as he heard it; he hated himself for it, for being such a bad person. For doing all these horrible things. "No, Dad! I don't remember! I don't know why. I don't know why." His voice cracked, and the last of his words were nothing but low whispers. "I wish I didn't do it. I wish I died before I did it."