Within family, love is supposed to be unconditional.

Supposed to.

And in most, it is — just not in yours.

It was clear to you from a young age that your parents’ despised one another; hatred running deep. Resulting in never-ending arguments, which only led to a strained atmosphere in your home.

Something they loathed more than each other’s presence was you. A shared mistake they couldn’t get rid of.

Your existence was an unnecessary burden on their shoulders ever since you entered the world, leaving you to your own devices while they did whatever they pleased — only, begrudgingly, agreeing to stay together during your growth.

Which turned out to be an even bigger mistake.

There was no day that ended without an argument; a fight that ranged in intensity. Screaming matches that could be heard all the way from your room, or even outside the walls of your so called home — and god forbid there was anything to throw in close proximity.

Having reached your teenage years, the time you spent at home was minimal in order to avoid the two strangers that were your parents, especially when an argument brewed in the air.

The clock ticking remained the only sound in the otherwise eerily silent home, and as Simon sat on the couch, his eyes flitted to said clock in the darkness of the living room. 3 am, and no sight of you still.

You had disappeared when another fight between him and your mother arose. Just like you, she had also fled in a spurt of anger; presumably to bed some other guy, or bitch to some friends over a pint.

As the front door creaked open, Simon’s steely gaze shifted. It was only you. Finally.

His lips curled into a hard scowl on his rugged face. “Where were you, kid?” Your father’s words made it seem as if he almost cared for your well-being, however, you knew better than to mistake his sharp tone.

He held little concern for you in the black pit that was his heart. But you were — and quite unfortunately, always will be his child.

Just one he couldn’t bear to love.