[15] Struggle

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With a frantic swing of the door, a man in his early thirties entered the room and his gaze immediately landed where his sick son was resting. A young and frail boy laid on the bed, sweat pooling from his forehead, eyes shut tightly, and pained breaths struggling to get past his dry and sore throat. A dreadful struck of guilt and concern prompted the man to rush over to his son.

Kneeling down, he said in a gentle voice, "I called your mother to pick up some medicine. You'll be okay."

At the sound of his father's voice, the child mustered the strength to open his eyes and turn his head over just enough to catch a glimpse.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

The child let out a shaky breath. "I've been wondering... Wouldn't it be easier if you and mum left me?"

A horrified look crept in the man's eyes. Had he accidentally given his child that impression at some point? He thought back to any conversations that could have been misinterpreted or comments that he made blissfully unaware of the repercussions, but he couldn't pinpoint a moment.

"Lyle, what gave you that idea?"

"I was just... wondering."

"I can tell when you're lying."

The child was silent for a moment. "I overheard some things at school."

The man took a deep breath, careful to not express his anger. His son was already ill and adding more stress to him was the last thing he wanted.

"What did you hear?"

"I'm always sick. And when I'm sick, you and mum are forced out of work to take care of me. Isn't it easier if I wasn't always sick? Or if you and mum paid someone else to take care of me? Or maybe just leave me––"

"There's no way we would do that." Hurt was evident in the father's tone. "You're our son and you will never be a burden to us. We don't take care of you because we have to, we do it because we love and care for you."

The child averted his eyes away and mumbled a meek, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. And please, don't listen to what others say."

The boy knitted his eyebrows together, confused. His next words weren't self deprecating or an expression of sadness. It was just his honest thoughts.

"But aren't I a burden?"

The father shook his head. "You're the reason why your mum and I are still here."

"I don't get it. You and mum are in the AEI's offence team. You can do fine without me. You'll do even better."

"We're strong because we're fighting to protect something. And that something is our dear son. You mean the world to us. You keep us going." The child stared at his father with a blank look. The father simply laughed, it was a carefree and fruity laughter. "You'll understand when you're older. But Lyle, I don't want you to think that way ever again, okay? Just because someone is sickly does not mean they're a burden."

The child didn't seem convinced, but he complied regardless. "Okay..."

While waiting for the child's mother to return home with medicine, the father did his best to take care of the boy. Momentarily, he left the room before returning with a hand behind his back. The child, now able to sit up on the bed, looked at his father in confusion.

With a smile, the man revealed a small teddy bear and booped the child's nose with the toy.

"Surprise!"

The child took the toy and stared at it with furrowed eyebrows. "It's too childish for me."

"Whatever you say, sport."

Anomalous (Yanderes x reader)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora