|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2017 2:03 am
Drake thought it would be relatively simple to come up with a way to quietly disappear from life. An extended internship and research opportunity in Japan, where he could finish his degree and jump start his career. He spent quite a long time researching the ins and outs of his story, setting down every detail including how he'd gotten the opportunity in the first place, and the street he'd live on. His grandfather on his father's side had a small villa outside Tokyo proper - once part of the larger house until Drake's father decided to immigrate to America for work and sold the estate - he'd stay here while in the inter ship. The facility was half an hours train ride from the villa, on the fourth floor of the building. He examined how the acceptance letters came, and created one to present if requested. He calculated the scholarship money he would have received, down to the cent. He had a thirty minute presentation all prepped and practiced. Drake spent an entire month simply creating his story and perfecting it, to make it believable.
The only problem was that he'd never actually applied for it, nor was he actually qualified for it. Hopefully, he'd be gone and someone else before his father figured it out.
With all this in hand, Drake visited his family for the holiday break. One quiet day near the end of the year, he brought this to his parents. He gaged it to be a 'quiet day' in that his father wasn't barking at his mother for the cooking, and his father hadn't left the night before to go drinking with his buddies from work. Trying to bring life altering information to an old man with a hangover from too much sake never went over well. (He'd learned his lesson in elementary school, when he'd gone to his father about being picked for the school play and his father back handed him into the coffee table. He'd required seven stitches in his temple and never brought up anything to the hungover man again.)
"Father, Mother, may I discuss something with you?" he asked at dinner. (This may have been the first mistake.) His mother, who was a small woman with clear blue eyes and dark brown hair, gave a cautionary glance at her husband and smiled at her son. She was a kind woman, who Drake found was almost too timid towards her husband, and had been one who he'd gone to for council over the years. Since entering college, things seemed to have gotten worse for her at home, though Drake never learned why. It was almost as though she feared her husband, yet there was nothing that could be done about it.
"O-of course dear, you can discuss anything with us," said his mother, voice wavering ever so slightly. Warning bells starting to go off in Drake's head, but he ignored them. He needed to do this, for himself. No longer would he be tied down to expectation. His father steepled his fingers and waited.
"Well? Speak, son," snapped his father, impatience coating his words. His mother jumped silently, caught off guard by the tone. Drake simply swallowed his fear as best his could.
"I have been given the opportunity to intern and do research in Tokyo, at Grandfather's old company starting in the spring. They have a very esteemed program that will place me right in the heart of the biomedical field, opening further opportunities down the line for advancement. Travel is covered, and I can finish my education at Tokyo Univers---" Drake spoke in an even, calm voice, glancing between the two of them.
His father slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to crack the wood, and this time Drake did wince and his eyes snapped to the table in reflex.
"YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD. You come into my house, you waste my money, my connections and you choose to go WORK WITH THAT SWINE!? In research of all fields!?" bellowed his father, dark eyes glaring down at his son. "I told you to give me a career, boy! I even gave you an extra semester, and THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME? I have spent years trying to guide you to take over my company and you've thrown it out at every opportunity." His father stood up in a huff, sending the chair toppling to the floor. Fear licked the back of Drake's spine and he felt it attempt to cripple him. No, not this time. He wasn't going to be passive and someone for his father to push around. His mother may not be able to stand up for herself anymore, but Drake could.
Drake looked up at his father, matching his gaze with his own.
"I am not some horse to be led to water, father. I am my own person, and I will make my own decisions about my life. I have tried to live up to your expectations, but it occurs to me I have never known what those expectations are. You have never once told me you wanted me to take over your company! You have never once shown that anything I have ever done has been to your expectations!" Drake's voice rose from its even and quiet level to something that shocked even him.
"You are my legacy, boy! You will be what I decide you are to be!" His father's face grew red with rage, trying to look down at his son who stood taller than him. Drake had never quite noticed, but his father stood far shorter than he'd expected. Or maybe Drake had always been looking down, and making himself small instead. "
"I will decide my own fate, father," said Drake, his voice deathly quiet. The two men stared at each other, eyes locked. The silence stretched on, tension crackling in the air.
The plate shattering on the wall behind Drake's head brought the present into high relief, time restarting itself. Panic flooded him, eyes going wide that his father had thrown it in the first place. His father stared wide eyed at him, and Drake noticed he'd dodged out of the way with reflexes he didn't know he'd had. Then, his father looked through him, as though he didn't exist. The broken china clattered on the floor, and Drake's father left the room without a word.
His mother scrambled to go clean up the plate. Drake held a hand, silently shaking his head and picking up the pieces himself.
"You are not his possession either, Mother," he said simply, broken china tinking softly against each other in his hand.
(Strike one)
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2017 2:04 am
'Mr. Ness,
We are contacting you to inform you that your tuition for Spring Semester is now overdue. Please provide payment in full for the amount below by the end of January, or we will forfeit your place in your classes. If you are withdrawing this semester, or need to petition for a semester off, please contact Student Services no later than the end of the week.
Thank you.
Amount due: $3,400.00'
Drake let out a sigh, dropping the notice onto the desk in front of him. So that was his answer then. He'd thought it odd he had to use his scholarship money for his rent - though it wasn't the first time he'd done so - but hadn't thought anything of it. Sometimes money had to be spent elsewhere, and he had the funds. That said… the scholarship couldn't cover his tuition alone, even at it's full amount. It was one of those small rebellions Drake had done in his life, to begin separating himself from his father's control. Usually, the funds went to books or stayed in a separate account his family didn't have access to. Again, it wasn't a /lot/ of money, just enough to cover a rainy day or to cover rent should something happen.
If his tuition wasn't paid for, then it wasn't getting paid for again.
His phone rang next to him. "This is Drake," he answered, not recognizing the number on the display.
"Drake honey I'm so sorry, I begged him to reconsider, to think about it b-but.. Well… you know how he gets," his mother spoke on the other end, her voice wavering.
"Reconsider what, Mother?" he asked, frowning at the phone. She hiccupped a few times, and sniffled.
"He's writing you out of the family, Drake. He's telling everyone you no longer exist." He supposed the news should have hit him harder. Any normal person would have reacted with worry or panic, yet all Drake felt in that moment was relief. Finally, he no longer had to be bound to the expectations of an aging old man, of a dynastic family barely holding onto its heritage. He let out a breath of air and sank back into the chair.
"I suppose this means you are to act as though I don't exist as well?" he asked after a moment, rationality kicking back in.
"He has told me to do so, however… sweetie I can't just abandon you. Wh-what you said to me that day… it-- you were right. We are not his possessions. I will not disown my only son," said his mother, though he noticed her voice dropped in volume. "I can't do much without him noticing, but a little money here or there will find its way to you. I promise."
Drake smiled at the phone, a sad little expression. "Thank you Mother. I just want you to be safe, alright? Please don't do anything that may put you in harms way," he said, code for "don't give him a reason to hurt you." She suddenly chuckled on the other end of the line.
"Marge you're such a hoot. Now don't be doing anything I wouldn't do! I'll see you for lunch next week?" she asked, confusing Drake for a moment.
"Ah… Wednesday, at Dotino's Pizza?" he answered, feeling a little silly.
"Yes, perfect. You know the spot! See you then!" The line went dead shortly after that. It occurred to him that his father must have come into the room and she was covering the best she could. Drake frowned at the phone, turning back to the piece of paper. Best to withdraw quietly…
(Strike two)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2017 2:05 am
'oi drake what did u do? gramps is throwing a fit at ur dad over u'
'dude did you get disowned!? what did you do man?????'
'im not supposed to talk to u but have u talked to ur mom lately.'
'… you did this you know…'
Silence.
For several weeks, Drake and his mother met at different restaurants around town. She always called him first, on a random day of the week, and then they met on a different day the next week. Each meeting she updated him on the state of affairs, sliding him a small envelope with cash. Enough for food and for his phone bill (one such meeting was to get him his own line and his own bank accounts with an uncle who seemed to be more interested in keeping her mother safe than Drake's affairs). One envelope had enough for rent for February.
He learned over lunch that his father got on the phone with his grandfather, and got into a shouting match about 'stealing his son'. His grandfather neither confirmed nor denied the internship position, simply reinforcing that Drake had the right to choose his own life. His father threatened to disown his own father and slammed the receiver down so hard he broke it.
Several days after that, pictures of Drake disappeared from the Ness household. Entire photo albums ended up in the fireplace - he almost set the house on fire twice - and all documentation of his existence was shredded and made into kindling. His mother was only able to save a few photos of young Drake, safely tucked away under the floor boards.
During the middle of January, his name was removed from the will, and the trust fund was dismantled. Any inheritance Drake may have had evaporated with a few signatures. He took this in stride and simply chalked it up to the situation. He could not be the son his father wanted, so his father decided he had no son to feel disappointed by. An easy way to deal with a more systemic issue.
Slowly though, the meetings became more sporadic. His mother could only meet briefly at street corners during errands, or in line at a coffee shop. She would call, the echo clear she was in a bathroom, or the background noise so thick he could barely hear her. The number was never the same, so he couldn't contact her. His cousins began to message him, concerned about what he'd done. He tried to explain, yet soon it turned accusatory. If he had just been a good son, she wouldn't be in this mess. Drake could never get them to tell him what the mess was, though. Maybe it was just a scare tactic from his father. Maybe it wasn't, and she was in trouble. He did no have enough information either way, just a worry that his father had finally done something terrible.
Then everything went quiet.
No communication from anyone. His cousins blocked him, the old phone numbers didn't work, even his own grandfather wouldn't pick up. They no longer wanted anything to do with him.
At least they would not miss him, now.
February inched on, Drake doing what he could to put the rest of his affairs in order. Still, he worried his mother was in trouble.
He found out, near the end of the month.
His family frequented a local spiritual gathering every month at the community center. Drake hadn't gone since he started college, usually because they fell on days when he had class. He'd also come to dislike the gatherings, which was more about posturing over other parents and families than celebrating a like minded value system. This month though, he chose to go. If it was a public setting, he thought, they could no ignore him in front of the entire group. Someone would notice something was up, surely.
Drake arrived early enough to linger in the entrance as people filtered in. Several former family friends smiled at him, said hello, but didn't engage further. Fair enough, he'd been gone for several year. Most probably didn't recognize him anymore, either. He caught his family, with several extended members in toe, as they entered the building. Drake smiled at him and stepped forward off the wall to greet them.
None of them noticed him. They looked through him, as if he did not exist. They filtered around him like they would filter around a pole, and gave him a wide berth of space. His parents were at the back of the group, and passed him last. His father looked standoffish as ever, his wife trailing half a step behind him. She was alive, that was good.
"Mother---" Drake started as she approached. Her mouth twitched, her eyes catching his long enough to convey more than words ever could.
No, no more. I am not your mother. I cannot be your mother. Not anymore.
She passed him without a sound, staring through him just like everyone else.
The wind left him, and for the first time Drake felt no relief at his disownment, only a sudden and intense loneliness that threatened to bring him to his knees. It took him several minutes to recover, and he staggered into the cold air to clear his head.
(Strike three)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2017 2:05 am
He sat among the cold several days later, arms in his sleeves and staring at nothing. Hydrus frowned at the snow, no longer lonely, only frustrated with himself. Would have it been better to fake his own death, to then approach them with a new face, a new name, and give his condolences to them? Would it have hurt less people? Death, death could be mourned and moved on from. Ignoring an entire member of your family stuck with you to the end.
It was there, among the snow, that Hydrus decided it did not matter anymore. What was done, was done. He would never be the son his father wanted, not as Drake, nor as his new life. Rather he be a forgotten disappointment, then a constant reminder of his failures. His mother's… betrayal wasn't the right word but it was the only word he had to describe it - hurt, it hurt like hell. Yet, his rational mind offered, it was better she alive and well, than otherwise. If forgetting her own son was how she had to survive, then he could not hate her for that.
He too was only doing what he could to survive.
He had a family as it was. It would be new, and he barely knew anyone in it, but he had one. A better one, filled with those of a common goal, and who didn't expect something unrealistic from it's members. All he needed to do was walk into a mirror and come out of it someone new, yet still the same. Once, it had been an escape from memories he wished he didn't have and a world he did not want to explore. Now… now it was all he had left. Mintaka, Remarque… the others of the Dark Mirror Court he had yet to meet, they would be those he surrounded himself with now. He would work hard to make them proud of him, to make himself a worthy member of the court, and protect them above all else.
And someday… they would all escape this lost world and have a place to call home, far from the raging war around them, and Hydrus would finally, finally be just good enough.
[ WC: 3000 ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
