Break
Ten year old Fang sat tensely at the dinner table. His hands folded in his lap, head down, watching his father out of the corner of his eyes. The man in question lounged in his chair, reading the newspaper. Fangs mother bustled around the table, spooning the vegetables onto the plates next to the meat and mashed potatoes. Everything had to be just right for his father, Jeb. Everything always had to be perfect. Fangs mom sat down at the table and picked up her cutlery. Fang took that as his cue to start eating.
He reached for the basket of rolls. His forearm knocked over a glass of milk, and he gasped as it started to fall. It smashed on the floor. Fangs muscles tensed as his mother sprang up from her seat to clean the mess. Jeb slammed his newspaper down on the table. "What's wrong with you?" he snapped at Fang. "Jeb, please, it was just an acci-" his mother tried, but Jeb interrupted. "He breaks everything he touches!" Fang flinched at the harsh words. It was true, he did break everything he touched. According to his parents, their relationship was perfect before they had him.
Now his dad drank and hit his mom and insisted perfection and was incredibly harsh and cruel to both of them. And it was all Fangs fault. Fang lowered his head in shame. "Jeb, please don't be so hard on him." His mother said softly. Jeb didn't even look at her. He swept his arm across the table, sending his plate of untouched foot crashing to the floor. Fangs mother jumped, and tears rose to her eyes. "So much for your perfect supper." He said sadistically, gulping down his glass of liquor. Fang wanted to say, 'More like your perfect supper' but he didn't dare.
"Fang, did you tidy up your room, like I asked you too?" Jeb asked. Fang nodded rapidly. "Let me see it." Fang looked at his mom. He wanted to help her clean up the table. "Now!" Jeb bellowed. Fang started out of his chair and led his father up to his room. He pushed the door open and stood stiffly against it. His father prowled through the room, taking in the neatly made bed, the nicely stacked books atop the organized desk, with homework sorted as 'In Progress' 'To be Turned In' and 'Completed'. As per his father's orders, Fang would always come home from school and immediately start his homework. It would be done in neat handwriting and Fang was obligated to show it to his father to make sure it was perfect.
It would be turned in on time. When it was returned, Fang would show it to his father. Anything less than 100 was punished severely. Despite only being ten, Fang was supposed to take neat notes in class and review them nightly. At the end of the week, Fangs father would test him on the past weeks notes and homework. Then he would start his long list of daily chores, organize his room, all before dinner time. Jeb took everything in, looking for the slightest sign of imperfection. His eyes locked on a single book Fang had placed on top of his bookcase instead of in alphabetical order in the case.
Jeb picked it up and threw it at the boy, hitting the wall next to his head. Fang flinched. "Why can't you do the smallest thing right?!" he screamed. Fang stared at the floor. "Pick it up, and put it away where it belongs." Jeb hissed. Fang scrambled to do what he said. Once he had slid the book into place, Jeb picked the boy up and threw him onto his bed. "You stay here for the rest of the night. No dinner."
With that, he stomped out of the room and slammed the door. Fang heard the lock click. He turned onto his side, feeling tears start in his eyes. He always broke everything. He could never be who his parents wanted him to be. He was a failure.
(A/N Kind of random. Eh.
UNF-
Silence)