𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝘁𝗼 S͟A͟V͟E͟

at sixteen, you think you can escape your father. you aren’t listening to his voice speaking through your mouth.

﹙an equal expression of concealed sadness was directed straight at him――――emotional scarcity, the 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗲 of wrongful masculinity.﹚ we're goin' huntin'. figured y'missed spendin' some 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳――𝘴𝘰𝘯 moments with me.

﹙ hardened gaze now lifted, aforementioned detachment evident in the tone. ﹚i could never forget my own son.

⠀ IT 𝗔𝗜𝗡＇𝗧 ME IT 𝗔𝗜𝗡＇𝗧 ME 、 𝘐 𝗔𝗜𝗡＇𝗧 ᴺᴼ 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝚂𝙾𝙽 . ⠀

ㅤ 𝕱or a 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤso a͟d͟e͟p͟t͟ at 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝕳is ᴇʏᴇs were ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓪𝓫𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽.

i realize it all alright, son. i've been 𝘄𝗶𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 too, remember﹖when we lost your mom, i just .. didn't feel much anythin' anymore. it becomes *easy to 𝓴ill when yar completely 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 from it.

⠀⠀𖬺͟. ﹙ ⌖ ﹚ ❝ 𝑪𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡 .ᐣ ❞ ⠀▹

is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

it’s gonna go wrong out here .

that touched a 𝖋uckin' chord. your father's changed, though .. the guilt's eatin' me alive day by day. here ya go, that's the admission ya wanted to hear.

you will never be clean from sin. rotten children don’t deserve heaven.

you were born reaching for your mother's hand, victim of your father's plans to rule the world.

ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ⁱ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ʰᵉʳᵉ . 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 .

at sixteen, you think you can escape your father. you aren’t listening to his voice speaking through your mouth.