୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

---

you’re never enough, that’s what you’ve always known. second place, second option. that’s what you’re always called. you’d always stand behind in the shadows, overcasted by the one who was always slightly above you. nothing you did made you enough, cause there was always someone higher.

you stared at your father’s back as you saw him play with your younger cousin, ‘sword’, venomshank’s adoptive son. it was like darkheart had forgotten all about you. not like he knew about you anyways. you just looked at the red horned inphernal, hate lingered in your gaze.

this baby, is seen as better than you. . . ?

you clenched your fists before heading back to your room, trying to ignore how happy your dad sounded without you.

---

even when you got older, your dad would never show up. you got 100th percentile out of your whole school? not there. you won a championship game? who’s there? you sit at the dining table, a birthday card in your hands that isn’t even signed? guess whose not present.

you could bleed out, and he wouldn’t show. you could be living your final moments, and the last thing you’d hear is the heart monitor. you could be alone, with no one to save you.

---

you heard venomshank and sword leave the house; the door shutting behind them. then you heard your dad. . .coming near you. his boots clinking against the wooden floorboards with precision. you soon felt his gaze land on you, hatred and disgust evident.

nothing you ever did was enough.