Chapter One
"You're nothing,"
"You are worthless,"
"You're a just another useless brat!"
He couldn't block the noises out, it was etched in his ears, he wanted it to be over but it grew louder and louder until all that he could hear were the painful insults he threw off to feed his sense of emptiness. He wanted to be loved, but he was hated, loved, something mushy from the unknown depths, it was something his parents didn't bathe him in. He was raised in the pits of hatred and anger, the only love he could find was in hurting someone, it gave him the feeling of superiority, he was oppressed by the fountain of life he came from, blamed for all the tragedies, left out on all the Mercedez life had to offer.
"MAX!"
It always will turn out like this, a fire ignored is a fire fed, they would only care when they are the one burning alive.
"MAX!"
Somehow the quote "A child who is not embraced by the village, will burn it down to feel its warmth" resonated strongly, pride.
"MAX!"
Maybe he shouldn't have burned the place down, maybe it was a phase, they called depression a phase, pretty sure child abuse isn't one.
"MAX!"
And the fire raged on, consuming the flesh of the living, leaving dust as the throne they shall be remembered with, he clenched his fists tight as the walls around him were engulfed in flame, he saw his father burning alive with his red satin bathrobe still, his mother stuck under a flaming pole as she cried in pain, they deserved this he cried out, he's wrists had slashes, he wore the yellow camp T-shirt with pride, showing off the bruises he had endured after summer break ended, blood flowed down from the edge of his mouth as he smiled at the sight of them screaming in pain, his body was sore, but he knew his adventure isn't over yet, walking past them, they begged him to rescue them from the torment, with a devious smile he cracked his mouth, "Enjoy summer!"
The torment he went through cost him his morals, stepping out of the room, he walked down the burning foyer, he lived in a mansion, provided by his father who had no shame in calling him by his middle name, "Mistake," or "Hellspawn", it did shape his personality, he smiled as he looked at the walls, the curtains caught fire, the blazes were raging more violently than he had previously anticipated, the fire that brewed wasn't his fault, but he planned to make it large.
20 minutes prior
"Mother, father, can I please go to Camp Campbell this summer?" It had been three years since I had been to the camp, even with the wealth my parents owned, I was neglected, my siblings were spoiled with the riches whilst I stood in the background, waiting for the day they would finally think of me as one of their own, my siblings weren't really my siblings, my mother, my real mother was a prostitute, I was a bastard that the man I called father must take care of to avoid legal measures taken against him. So there I was an ugly duckling, the bitter ugly child of a rich abusive playboy and an STD-ridden prostitute from the slums of India.
"You can't go camping this year, you are to stay in your room for what you did," Father spits as he flipped through the newspaper. What did I do? Accidentally revealing my scars to the gym teacher, and cost you three grand on bribing the man just so he won't tell the authorities?
"Nothing personal, just business," Mother chirped in as she sipped red wine from her fancy glass.
"I understand father," I walked out, of their den, jealousy, you cannot stop that, it is natural for a thirteen-year-old child to feel jealous over his other siblings, those that had it better than him, as he was walking down the foyer stairs, his eyes were met with tears, he saw the other children him and the plastic doll had acquired over the past years ripping open his blue duffle bag, filled with the things he wanted to bring back to camp, Malorie the eldest was 16, she was the pack leader, she was the one that hated him the most, Mason, a year younger than him, he had the worst haircut he had ever seen in his life. He saw Malorie ripping the contents of his bag, he wanted to stop them but that would end with a beating, so he decided against it, muttering the word "bitch" under his breath.
Somehow the "bitch" heard him, and called him out, "What the fuck did you call me?" nagged the half-white half-Indian teenager.
"Nothing," Max muttered.
"Oh, you're a coward!" the teenage "bitch" mocked as she pulled out a bear from his bag, "Guess Mr Honeynuts isn't going to be rescued by Max the coward,"
"Give me Mr Honeynuts back!" Max screamed as he jumped, trying to catch the comfort bear.
"Haha, good one Malorie!" Mason remarked as he pushed the darker-skinned boy to the feet of the foyer stairs, "Cry about it,"
Max had enough, he couldn't take it anymore, he had been there for three years without the camp, it took him three years without a cycle breaker to get him this angry, could have taken less time, but he, he was a strategist, he knew the consequences, but snapping required the snap to be present. With all his strength he punched the boy hard, knocking two of his incisors, bled and he cried, he knew he was fucked, but running would bring him more trouble, so he stood still.
"MAXWELL!" Father's voice blared through the large foyer, slowly I crept up the flight of stairs, with his hairy black arm he grabbed the tip of my hood as he dragged me into the den, throwing me I felt my face mashed on the corner table, I could hear him taking out the baton from his book cabinet, I tried to get up but I couldn't. The pain that entered my mind when the rod landed on my back was too intense that my eyes refused to cry and my mouth refused to beg. Hit after hit I clenched my fist until I saw what was on the floor in front of me, an open bottle with a little bit of whiskey left, swiftly I turned around and threw the glass bottle at him, it cracked and the alcohol seeped into his satin bathrobe. "You bastard!"
I tried to run but I couldn't, I saw mother came in, she was angry, she was fuming as she took a swig from her cigarette, without care, she threw it on the floor, a lit cigarette on a fluffy carpet, that's going to end well. "I'm sick and tired of your behaviour little Maxwell, can't we just throw him out Rajesh?"
"He have a big mouth, that isn't going to help," he said as he threw Max near the lit cigarette, Max didn't hesitate, swiftly he threw the cigarette at the man, his alcohol doused bathrobe caught fire almost instantly, causing the plastic-clad woman to panic before deciding to grab a bottle of vodka to extinguish the fire, "once a dumb blonde always a dumb blonde," Max thought, he smirked as the fire grew larger and the fire spread further, in a minute it was him on fire, in a second the room had burned, fear, she retreated back to the support pole in the middle of the den, the fire ate through it like hungry termites, making it fall on her instead, Max laughed, and smiled, he looked like a psychopath, he hated that but he knew that this is the only time he will laugh in joy in the mansion. Taking off the blue ragged jacket he threw it in the raging fire, his body had scars all over, but the pain doesn't stop him from enjoying the event. The pain from the whipping was harsh behind his back but it was fun watching them cry.
The present
"Mum, Dad!" Malorie and Mason shouted in unison, Max walked past them in his yellow shirt, unknown to him, the blood from the whips was seeping into his shirt, it was hard enough to make him bleed, but he couldn't care, he was smiling.
"YOU, YOU DID THIS!" Malorie cracked the ambience with her bitchy voice, but Max couldn't care, he was too caught up in his own world, he walked and walked until he could see the large mansion slowly engulfed in the fire, he saw the two dumbfucks run inside, he doesn't care, so he sat down with legs parallel to each other, "This is nice" he blurted as a sudden explosion took out half of the place, knocking him out into a long slumber.
A/N
I'll continue this after my hiatus, dunno when, but it starts on the 17th of October