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The more he focused on the toddler tether attached to the child’s back, the more it bothered him. In his mind, it was the physical manifestation of restriction itself.
He didn’t require the weight of such an oppressive invention dragging him down, siphoning the urge to explore and roam freely from his soul. Rock expected such a crass contraption might mutate the child’s spirit into something more predictive and robotic.
She couldn’t be molded to simply worship those within her familial circumference just because they shared the same bloodline.
She was in the rarest of forms, wearing her most brilliant mask, a game face for the ages.
How many smiles had been stolen from him?
Tightly wound worlds of suffocation that used fear, compliance, and reliance as fuel.
The conditioning that resulted from an endless cycle of abuse was a profound manipulator.
He was tired of being a project instead of just being a son.
CJ considered that he might’ve spent too much time focusing on the things that perturbed him about his family. Looking back, they were much better than he’d given them credit for.
As the vicious ocean of scorching fluid destroyed the little that remained of their tissues, the opinions and differences they held in life were suddenly of little consequence. Now, they were one and the same: a single all-encompassing soup of sizzling cells, dissolving ambition, and lost youth.
