#tiola

Imagine you're a 15 year old boy. You probably never knew kindness in your life because your mom died when you were little and your dad is too obsessed with war and murder and world domination to care about you. You live to please him. You'd do anything to make him proud. You *have* done awful, awful things to appease him. Things that keep you up at night. You're mean and a bully and act like you're the boss of everyone because you hurt inside and because you're trying to play the part of the man, the big authoritative man your father can't help but be proud of. There's this one kid who your father is obsessed with for some reason. He makes you work with him. You don't get why this guy is so special but whatever. You fight with him everyday but you still work side by side. You two commit more awful things to appease your father. Your father is kinda ... happy? No one can read him anyway. You spend months and months with the other kid. You two grow kinda close. Maybe he's not that bad after all. You both get a promotion. Your father is so proud of you two, his sons. You're so happy you can't even think straight. Maybe you can all be a family now, yes , you your new brother and your dad. Your father trusts you to lead his army to war and you will, you'll prove yourself to him and he'll love you. You come back from what ended up being a diversion, not the actual war, and your new family is fighting. Your dad tells you to shoot your brother. You would never. Your brother threatens to shoot you. What? Your father shoots you. Why? to "remove you from the equation". You die and in your last seconds you ask to be forgiven. You regret it all so much. You finally see through your father's constant manipulation but it's too late. You die. Your brother goes to war with the rifle your dad had given you , the rifle you were to protect yourself with in battle. You're dead and you don't know that the rifle was unloaded. You're dead and everyone you've ever loved betrayed you. You're Davy fucking Prentiss Jr and you haunt my existence