William's angry outbursts are good, but the quiet ones are my favorite. When he slowly opens the door to my room and says "Michael." Thats all he has to say in that dry tone to bring me to tears. When I start sobbing he enters my room and approaches my bed. As I try to pull away he grabs my ankle and uses his cane to whack my head a few times, shouting now about whatever it is I did this time. I'm such a horrible son, worthless, useless. When he's done beating me around and shouting he breathes heavy over me before using that quiet, dry, voice to ask
"Do you have anything you want to say to me, Michael?"
"I love you." Is all I can croak out, reaching towards him with shaking hands. Blood on my bruised face, nose askew, tears and snot running down my cheeks. I look so fucking pathetic.
I just want dad to love me now. Kiss me, touch me, fuck me. All while scolding me and reminding me how terrible of a son I am, and that I should be thankful he still loves me so much.
- Michael fictive that shadows your blog
Hey dude. oh my god. Ffuck. Holy fuck.
