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A memory that leaves them feeling lonely
This became a short little drabble, so feel free to read and enjoy!
Warnings: Verbal abuse, child neglect/abuse
Warren does not remember much of the day he was captured. It’s just blurs of yelling, screaming, and the pain of someone hitting him with a taser, all before passing out. But he does remember waking up a few hours later, in a cell. The bed was bare and uncomfortable, his body was sore, and his head pounded like a million drums. He didn’t panic when he realized where he was, not at first. He’d woken up in many cells before and this surely wouldn’t be the last.
He waited patiently for his mother’s arrival, knowing she’d come for him like she’d done all those times before. Well, technically she never came for him, not personally anyway. She’d manipulate some guard and have them release Warren, walk him out of the jail, and right to his mother’s side. However, after hours and hours of waiting, the boy began to worry. Had his mother been caught as well? Was she injured? Did she need his help? Another hour spent worrying passed until he finally got his answer.
An answer in the form of his mother, in the flesh, just outside his cell doors.
Excited, the boy raced to the bars, beaming like a child on christmas as he waited for his mother to unlocked the door and let him be free. But she did not move from her position, standing there with a look of distaste and anger, as if Warren were the scum of the earth. Confused, he asked her what was wrong, something he’d immediately regret.
“Why did my only son have to be some pathetic human?” Her tone was bitter and her eyes narrowed, examining Warren carefully as she continued, “Your father was human, but at least he had something to make him powerful.”
Confused, Warren asked his mother to open the doors, he’d prove her wrong, he’d get it right this time.
“No you won’t, you’ll just get captured, again, by the pathetic human cops, because you are no different from them. Powerless. I should leave you here to rot.”
Knowing she was not joking, Warren yelled, begging her to let him go. He could do it, he could get stronger, he could be a villain, just like her. The laugh that echoed the halls was unnerving, but in a split second her expression changed to that of fury and disgust, making Warren flinch back.
“Don’t compare me to you. You are weak, you are nothing.” Then she turned, walking away from the cell, only to pause and speak over her shoulder, “I’m going to leave you here now, so you can sit here, rot, and die for all I care.”
With that she turned and left, leaving Warren to watch as she disappeared down the halls of the jail. He cried, but he did not call out to her. She was right. Nothing he could say would convince her that he was strong. Nothing he could do would make him stronger. He was pathetic. And as the guards rushed down the halls to his cell, yelling and shouting about how Shriek had broken, Warren laid there, knowing that he would in fact rot in this cell, for the rest of his life, and die like the pathetic human he is.
