Hey guys! I'm here with a new story today. And honestly i don't know if this is angst, hurt/comfort, or what. It is kind of a mix, I hope you enjoy. Drop a review! And it is quite short, sorry for that.
I was happy back then. Running my very own fashion company with my wife and my son by my side. And I don't know what changed me. Was it her sudden disappearance? Or was it the aftershock I went through, left all alone to raise my only son and handle my company with no support? Whatever it was, it was good for my company, for it soared new heights, leaving experts dumbstruck. The incident gave me a sense of responsibility. Made me see the real world once more, remember it's bitterness and unfairness. When though I knew all this, did not mean I liked it, or agreed with it. Oh how I longed to turn into a innocent young child once more! Unscarred by this evil world. And so, I tried my best to keep my son safe from the outside world, oblivious that I pushed him in a even darker hole. What had I done wrong? Just trying to protect him from the evil, so he would not become like me one day...was that, not the correct thing to do?
It is human nature that ruins all. The inborn curiosity to explore, discover new things is what leads to destruction of one's innocence, and the shattering of the childish belief that the world is good.
I have sheltered him from the rest of the world, for the sole purpose of protecting him from what lies outside. But now the situation has changed...looking at him transform into the living entity known for the power of destruction...it floods me with different thoughts, scenarios, feelings. Before I did not care for who risked their lives to protect Paris, as long as they were capable of that job. As long as they could protect me and my son. Now...finding out that my son IS the one who has protected me, and not the other way round, it is an indescribable feeling. Before, knowing that I had full control on my son's life gave me a sense of relief, satisfaction...satisfaction that he was safe. But now, when I look back, I no longer feel it, instead, I feel guilty...regretful for having trapped my son in his own house, just so I could sleep at night. Trying to relive my thoughts from that unfaithful day, I realize that if I consider every one of my thoughts and decisions, and compare them to his? My son's were of a hero, while mine could easily be confused with those of a villian.
True, back then I was happy, but now I'm satisfied...that my son has grown into a respectable person, worthy of the freedom that has been given to him. and I'm pleased to say that it is a better feeling...one that I will never forget.