Hyde looked at her, dumbstruck. He took off his glasses and looked at Bud right in the eyes.
"You'd do that to me? Bud, we've been living together for a year man!" Hyde yelled.
Bud looked uncomfortable.
"I know son, but now, its time to take our separate ways." he slurred.
Hyde put his glasses back on, so they couldn't see his eyes tearing up in anger. Yes, Steven Hyde cried, like any normal person, except his tears were those of anger.
"I'm not your son. Don't ever call me son! You're both bastards! I hate you! Get out! Get the fuck out! And if I ever see the two of you again, I'll kill you! I swear to god!" he yelled as loud as he could.
Edna was scared. She took Bud by the arm and pulled him inside the bedroom where they took the rest of their belongings. When they came back to the living room, they realized they had forgotten about the rest of their stuff. They looked at each other.
"Steven, I'll be back tomorrow to pick up...." Bud said, but he got cut off by Hyde.
"Forget it, I'm leaving! Don't ever come back!" Hyde said in controlled anger, and he could feel the anger diffusing in his body. He looked at his knuckles, they were white. He had to throw that hate at something. He took his jacket, his arms trembling with suppressed anger. He opened the door, almost running out, then threw his arm into the wall with all his strength, putting his body with it. The wall, which wasn't solid and felt like cardboard, hell it probably was cardboard, gave away under his fist. It felt good to hit something. To put the anger somewhere. Instead of putting it inside and letting it eat you alive with remorse and hidden pain, anger and hate. While both his "parents" looked at him, shocked, he took a chair and crashed it on the kitchen counter, opening at the same time a deep gash in his forearm. Edna whimpered when she saw the chair break, hiding behind Bud. He looked at them both, went to the door, and slammed the door shut with all his might, closing a door that could never be opened again.
Back in his car, Hyde looked at his face in the rearview mirror. He was a wreck. Some tears had escaped and were smearing his face, as blood was smearing his shirt. He had forgotten about his cut. It was a nasty one at that as he looked at it closer under the car's light. He teared a bit of cloth from his shirt and tied it with it. He put both his hands on the wheel, but he couldn't repress tears anymore. They escaped his eyes, running down his even cheeks fast, each tear racing the other.
'Stop it man! They're not worth your tears! Get a grip on yourself you wuss!' told him the little nagging voice in the back of his mind. He knew it was the truth, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't refrain the tears. He couldn't stop them or shrug them off. The pain was too intense. Being ditched once by his father, then by his mother, trusting his father again, and then both ditching him.
'What a great life! What do I have to look forward to? Death, or Jail?' he thought bitterly as tears rained down his cheeks. Yet, he knew he had something.
'I still have my friends, and Red and Kitty, the parents I've always wanted. At least, they care.' he thought, feeling something fuzzy inside.
"That's my family. That's where I gotta be." he told himself.
Pulling himself together, he wiped his eyes and face, started the car and drove off, heading to nowhere.
Lights in front of him infuriated him. He wanted to be in the darkness, so he could think. Cars were coming the other way though, and he couldn't tell them to all go to hell. He kept thinking of going to the Formans, but too many questions will be asked, and they'd want him to talk about his feelings and stuff like that he would never do. They'd all be sympathetic to him, but he could never endure the look of pity they offered him. He kept driving, barely seeing when he passed Forman's house, the house he loved. He saw with the corner of his eye Eric and Donna, standing up and looking at each other. But now, he didn't care what was happening to them. He needed to clear his head. He saw a corner in the road, and he slammed his brakes and twisted the wheel. The car bounced up and down as it hit the curve, but he regained control of the car instantly. He knew where he was going, and he pushed more on the gas. His thoughts flew, as did the car in the night.
The second chapter is kinda short, but what the hell, right? To Be Continued...
"You'd do that to me? Bud, we've been living together for a year man!" Hyde yelled.
Bud looked uncomfortable.
"I know son, but now, its time to take our separate ways." he slurred.
Hyde put his glasses back on, so they couldn't see his eyes tearing up in anger. Yes, Steven Hyde cried, like any normal person, except his tears were those of anger.
"I'm not your son. Don't ever call me son! You're both bastards! I hate you! Get out! Get the fuck out! And if I ever see the two of you again, I'll kill you! I swear to god!" he yelled as loud as he could.
Edna was scared. She took Bud by the arm and pulled him inside the bedroom where they took the rest of their belongings. When they came back to the living room, they realized they had forgotten about the rest of their stuff. They looked at each other.
"Steven, I'll be back tomorrow to pick up...." Bud said, but he got cut off by Hyde.
"Forget it, I'm leaving! Don't ever come back!" Hyde said in controlled anger, and he could feel the anger diffusing in his body. He looked at his knuckles, they were white. He had to throw that hate at something. He took his jacket, his arms trembling with suppressed anger. He opened the door, almost running out, then threw his arm into the wall with all his strength, putting his body with it. The wall, which wasn't solid and felt like cardboard, hell it probably was cardboard, gave away under his fist. It felt good to hit something. To put the anger somewhere. Instead of putting it inside and letting it eat you alive with remorse and hidden pain, anger and hate. While both his "parents" looked at him, shocked, he took a chair and crashed it on the kitchen counter, opening at the same time a deep gash in his forearm. Edna whimpered when she saw the chair break, hiding behind Bud. He looked at them both, went to the door, and slammed the door shut with all his might, closing a door that could never be opened again.
Back in his car, Hyde looked at his face in the rearview mirror. He was a wreck. Some tears had escaped and were smearing his face, as blood was smearing his shirt. He had forgotten about his cut. It was a nasty one at that as he looked at it closer under the car's light. He teared a bit of cloth from his shirt and tied it with it. He put both his hands on the wheel, but he couldn't repress tears anymore. They escaped his eyes, running down his even cheeks fast, each tear racing the other.
'Stop it man! They're not worth your tears! Get a grip on yourself you wuss!' told him the little nagging voice in the back of his mind. He knew it was the truth, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't refrain the tears. He couldn't stop them or shrug them off. The pain was too intense. Being ditched once by his father, then by his mother, trusting his father again, and then both ditching him.
'What a great life! What do I have to look forward to? Death, or Jail?' he thought bitterly as tears rained down his cheeks. Yet, he knew he had something.
'I still have my friends, and Red and Kitty, the parents I've always wanted. At least, they care.' he thought, feeling something fuzzy inside.
"That's my family. That's where I gotta be." he told himself.
Pulling himself together, he wiped his eyes and face, started the car and drove off, heading to nowhere.
Lights in front of him infuriated him. He wanted to be in the darkness, so he could think. Cars were coming the other way though, and he couldn't tell them to all go to hell. He kept thinking of going to the Formans, but too many questions will be asked, and they'd want him to talk about his feelings and stuff like that he would never do. They'd all be sympathetic to him, but he could never endure the look of pity they offered him. He kept driving, barely seeing when he passed Forman's house, the house he loved. He saw with the corner of his eye Eric and Donna, standing up and looking at each other. But now, he didn't care what was happening to them. He needed to clear his head. He saw a corner in the road, and he slammed his brakes and twisted the wheel. The car bounced up and down as it hit the curve, but he regained control of the car instantly. He knew where he was going, and he pushed more on the gas. His thoughts flew, as did the car in the night.
The second chapter is kinda short, but what the hell, right? To Be Continued...