FIC: The Real Sadist
Title: The Real Sadist
Rating: K+
Genre: Family, Hurt, Comfort (?)
Summary: 'Cause one way or another, she had to learn.
Notes: Written for iu_fanfiction WC#31 Prompt: Sleeping Dragon.
Out of the blue. I just thought Fran needed some beating. Or let's just say I wanted to write some unhappy fics.
“Really?! What would Mom say if she had seen you in this state?!” Kyle was doing his best to hold back his anger. Bastard. He was too red in the face, his eyes steaming - strained probably by even looking at me. This was the best he could do to hold back the feeling of hate he had - I wouldn’t even call it holding back.
“Francine, have I taught you nothing in your 18 years of life?” I answered, being the bastard that I was myself - even I felt the surge of pain that ran through me when I heard mom’s voice instead of mine. That pain was more evident than the burning sensation Kyle’s palm had left my face. And as if I haven’t had enough I had to add - looking at him straight in the eye.
“And Kyle, don’t you dare hurt your sister.” Hey. We’re both bastards. The genes should be running in the family. I understand my getting drunk like a lunatic. But Kyle - he was the model child here - he would never break a rule. He’s way better than me. He wouldn’t dive down so low - but he did anyway.
The other bastard, Francis, could only run a palm through his face. ‘Typical me, right? He asked a question, I’d answer.’ I told him in my mind. He just didn’t know what to do. He can’t pick, brother or twin.
Kyle gave me another glare; he didn’t say another word though. He just stood there - glaring, condemning me in his stare. The last statement sure hit him; he should be debating with himself by now - will he tell me off? Hit me again?
Whatever was going on inside that achiever brain I just couldn’t wait for any longer.
“I get it, Kyle. It’s all my fault isn’t it? I’m the one who’s supposed to be dead… not Mom. All of you would be way happier without me. Right, Kyle?” I threatened him to say yes, I was crying already. I bet he taught I never thought of that. I bet he thought I had no heart. I bet he thought it was another one of my sneaky tricks - where I’d get away with it and they’d have to pay for the consequences.
Kyle was always the big brother. He’d watch out for us, which roughly translates to cleaning up all the mess I make. I guess he just wasn’t willing to do it this time. I don’t blame him. Mom’s not here anymore to nag on him about how he needs to be a big brother, how he should be supporting us in times of conflict, how he should be a shoulder to cry on.
I was right, he walked out. I cried buckets, I was disappointed myself. Much of the devil I want to be known as most of the time - well, this isn’t ‘most of the time’. And I wanted him to have reassured me, tell me that wasn’t it, it wasn’t my fault. But I guess it was - and even Kyle couldn't lie to himself, even for my sake.
He just couldn’t be big brother now - not to an ingrate like me.
I sat myself on the bed. Yeah. I was always the troublesome one wasn’t I? And the guys would always be paying for all the wrong I do. I shouldn’t be blaming him for not sticking up for me this time. This time - I went overboard.
Drat. I’m still crying.
Tsk. Mommy, I never knew you were such a sadist. You just had to die like this - you just had to die after we had a fight. Some hardship you left for us didn’t you.
Some lesson you left me. So you had to go just to get this message through. They won’t be here forever.
I felt Francis put his arms around me. He’s still here - now at least.
Fine.
Watch me weep, mom. Just this while, and when I’m done, I’m done. Like I promised, no other sadist will beat me - including you.
Rating: K+
Genre: Family, Hurt, Comfort (?)
Summary: 'Cause one way or another, she had to learn.
Notes: Written for iu_fanfiction WC#31 Prompt: Sleeping Dragon.
Out of the blue. I just thought Fran needed some beating. Or let's just say I wanted to write some unhappy fics.
“Really?! What would Mom say if she had seen you in this state?!” Kyle was doing his best to hold back his anger. Bastard. He was too red in the face, his eyes steaming - strained probably by even looking at me. This was the best he could do to hold back the feeling of hate he had - I wouldn’t even call it holding back.
“Francine, have I taught you nothing in your 18 years of life?” I answered, being the bastard that I was myself - even I felt the surge of pain that ran through me when I heard mom’s voice instead of mine. That pain was more evident than the burning sensation Kyle’s palm had left my face. And as if I haven’t had enough I had to add - looking at him straight in the eye.
“And Kyle, don’t you dare hurt your sister.” Hey. We’re both bastards. The genes should be running in the family. I understand my getting drunk like a lunatic. But Kyle - he was the model child here - he would never break a rule. He’s way better than me. He wouldn’t dive down so low - but he did anyway.
The other bastard, Francis, could only run a palm through his face. ‘Typical me, right? He asked a question, I’d answer.’ I told him in my mind. He just didn’t know what to do. He can’t pick, brother or twin.
Kyle gave me another glare; he didn’t say another word though. He just stood there - glaring, condemning me in his stare. The last statement sure hit him; he should be debating with himself by now - will he tell me off? Hit me again?
Whatever was going on inside that achiever brain I just couldn’t wait for any longer.
“I get it, Kyle. It’s all my fault isn’t it? I’m the one who’s supposed to be dead… not Mom. All of you would be way happier without me. Right, Kyle?” I threatened him to say yes, I was crying already. I bet he taught I never thought of that. I bet he thought I had no heart. I bet he thought it was another one of my sneaky tricks - where I’d get away with it and they’d have to pay for the consequences.
Kyle was always the big brother. He’d watch out for us, which roughly translates to cleaning up all the mess I make. I guess he just wasn’t willing to do it this time. I don’t blame him. Mom’s not here anymore to nag on him about how he needs to be a big brother, how he should be supporting us in times of conflict, how he should be a shoulder to cry on.
I was right, he walked out. I cried buckets, I was disappointed myself. Much of the devil I want to be known as most of the time - well, this isn’t ‘most of the time’. And I wanted him to have reassured me, tell me that wasn’t it, it wasn’t my fault. But I guess it was - and even Kyle couldn't lie to himself, even for my sake.
He just couldn’t be big brother now - not to an ingrate like me.
I sat myself on the bed. Yeah. I was always the troublesome one wasn’t I? And the guys would always be paying for all the wrong I do. I shouldn’t be blaming him for not sticking up for me this time. This time - I went overboard.
Drat. I’m still crying.
Tsk. Mommy, I never knew you were such a sadist. You just had to die like this - you just had to die after we had a fight. Some hardship you left for us didn’t you.
Some lesson you left me. So you had to go just to get this message through. They won’t be here forever.
I felt Francis put his arms around me. He’s still here - now at least.
Fine.
Watch me weep, mom. Just this while, and when I’m done, I’m done. Like I promised, no other sadist will beat me - including you.