Categories > Original > Drama
What Made Petey the Way He is
1 reviewWhat made Pete so bitter in the first place.. ( oneshot, rated for bad language and child abuse)
2Moving
He was sick. Sick of life, of attempting to carry on with what seemed to be a pointless existence. Sick of being lied to, cheated on, and fucked over by everyone who knew him. Sick of trying, and failing, falling flat on his face every time. Trying to feel something, anything, and coming up blank every fucking time. All he wanted was to be able to feel love, joy or happiness, but every single time he tried, the emotion just didn’t fucking show up. All he was left with, was anger, bitterness, and despair. These feelings had been the only things to accompany him down the road of life for a very long time.
He wanted to give up. Stop trying to fit in, and be normal. He only put up the slight facade of normality to please his parents, and the people around him, and to stop him feeling so fucking vulnerable all the time. It was the same reason he acted so sarcastic and bitter the whole damn time, if he was honest. That feeling of vulnerability scared him more than anything in the world. It’s how the bullies had made him feel, like no matter how hard he tried, he could never amount to anything. They used to slam his head against the iron railings outside his home, otherwise known as his personal hell. His parents saw, he knows they did, but they never bothered to stop anything, they were usually too fucking high to move, never mind to save their seven year old son. So it continued, day after fucking day, and he would just take it, all the abuse, all the pain, because he had no other choice. He was too small and weak at the time to fight back, not that it would’ve helped anyway. He knew that, but it certainly didn’t make him feel any better.
Every time he felt like he found someone he could trust, someone to restore his faith in humanity, they found a new way to screw him over. Gossip was spread about the scars on his arms, friends abandoned him as soon as a better option came around. He gave everything to those so called ‘friends’, gave them so much trust and respect, but it never worked. He finally found someone who was just as fucked up as he was, and even though he hadn’t known them long, he told them his biggest secret, only to find out they shared it with everyone they knew. And, yet again, that ‘friend’ left him all over again, abandoning to solitude again. Not that he cared by this point, it was old hat to him by now. It made his life easier not to have to talk to anyone, he had less chance of getting hurt then. But he had to admit to himself that it would be nice to have someone who actually trusted him ,that he could trust in return.
Pete had another problem, one he really didn’t want to face, ever. He was incapable of love. His brother had made sure of that. He was wary of physical contact, particularly in a loving way, as in his experience it had led to other... things. Things he had been too young to understand what it was a t the time. His brother had threatened to hurt Pete, should he tell anyone what happened, so he had never told anybody. Besides, he was family, and family stick together. Well, that, and his brother was all Pete had. So he did what his brother told him to, even though it confused and scared him. He let out a bitter laugh as he realised that his brother probably wouldn’t even remember. After all, they were only children at the time. He tried to tell his parents what had happened afterwards, but they waved him away. Nobody knew what had happened to him, and to this day, nobody knows, other than Pete; after all, his parents didn’t believe him, and he doubted his brother would remember anything anyway. This happened a lot over his childhood years, to the stage where he couldn’t wait for the point where his brother would leave home, even though it would mean he was completely abandoned. Looking back on it, it makes him cringe to think about it, so he just doesn’t. He keeps his mouth shut, and locks it away in the back of his mind, hoping it wouldn’t affect him if he left it alone long enough. It was just Pete’s luck that it had fucked him up so much that he couldn’t get close to anyone, particularly not in a romantic light. Any intimacy creeped him out beyond belief.
Unfortunately for Pete, this wasn’t the only thing his brother had done to him. If he got angry, all hell broke loose. It was like all he saw was red, and no matter how much Pete would beg, scream and cry for him to stop, it made no difference. His brother would hit him with whatever he could find, as hard as he could. Pete had come out of fights with deep teeth marks from his brother, most of which bled profusely. His parents were either out or too high to give a flying fuck, mumbling ‘boys will be boys’ in their smoke filled haze. Even after all of this, Pete was certain he still loved his big brother.
Pete felt blank, emotionless, and desolate, as the drama of his 10th birthday played out. He had a lot to live up to, after all, his brother had landed a high flying career in the city’s order. As per usual, Pete couldn’t live up to this, as he walked up to receive his shimmering purple mask. He watched his parents disgusted look as they walked out, abandoning him in the grand hall.
Not much has changed in that time. Just like then, all he wants is to feel, and he wants it more than anything. Eventually he decided that if all he could feel was pain, then that would fucking do. It was something he could do just for him, and gave him a tentative control of something in his life. It was something his parents and brother couldn’t affect, even if they wanted to. It was something he could do to get over his own self loathing, and he could do it without thinking about consequences. In some sort of sick, twisted way, it made him feel safe. Safe was good. Safe was rare for Pete, and was something to be cherished. He liked this safe, even if it was just an illusion, paper thin and easily shattered, bringing him down to the reality he knew he would have to face up to eventually. But, for now, that could hold off for a while. He loved his dream world, and certainly wasn’t giving up on it without a fight.
He wanted to give up. Stop trying to fit in, and be normal. He only put up the slight facade of normality to please his parents, and the people around him, and to stop him feeling so fucking vulnerable all the time. It was the same reason he acted so sarcastic and bitter the whole damn time, if he was honest. That feeling of vulnerability scared him more than anything in the world. It’s how the bullies had made him feel, like no matter how hard he tried, he could never amount to anything. They used to slam his head against the iron railings outside his home, otherwise known as his personal hell. His parents saw, he knows they did, but they never bothered to stop anything, they were usually too fucking high to move, never mind to save their seven year old son. So it continued, day after fucking day, and he would just take it, all the abuse, all the pain, because he had no other choice. He was too small and weak at the time to fight back, not that it would’ve helped anyway. He knew that, but it certainly didn’t make him feel any better.
Every time he felt like he found someone he could trust, someone to restore his faith in humanity, they found a new way to screw him over. Gossip was spread about the scars on his arms, friends abandoned him as soon as a better option came around. He gave everything to those so called ‘friends’, gave them so much trust and respect, but it never worked. He finally found someone who was just as fucked up as he was, and even though he hadn’t known them long, he told them his biggest secret, only to find out they shared it with everyone they knew. And, yet again, that ‘friend’ left him all over again, abandoning to solitude again. Not that he cared by this point, it was old hat to him by now. It made his life easier not to have to talk to anyone, he had less chance of getting hurt then. But he had to admit to himself that it would be nice to have someone who actually trusted him ,that he could trust in return.
Pete had another problem, one he really didn’t want to face, ever. He was incapable of love. His brother had made sure of that. He was wary of physical contact, particularly in a loving way, as in his experience it had led to other... things. Things he had been too young to understand what it was a t the time. His brother had threatened to hurt Pete, should he tell anyone what happened, so he had never told anybody. Besides, he was family, and family stick together. Well, that, and his brother was all Pete had. So he did what his brother told him to, even though it confused and scared him. He let out a bitter laugh as he realised that his brother probably wouldn’t even remember. After all, they were only children at the time. He tried to tell his parents what had happened afterwards, but they waved him away. Nobody knew what had happened to him, and to this day, nobody knows, other than Pete; after all, his parents didn’t believe him, and he doubted his brother would remember anything anyway. This happened a lot over his childhood years, to the stage where he couldn’t wait for the point where his brother would leave home, even though it would mean he was completely abandoned. Looking back on it, it makes him cringe to think about it, so he just doesn’t. He keeps his mouth shut, and locks it away in the back of his mind, hoping it wouldn’t affect him if he left it alone long enough. It was just Pete’s luck that it had fucked him up so much that he couldn’t get close to anyone, particularly not in a romantic light. Any intimacy creeped him out beyond belief.
Unfortunately for Pete, this wasn’t the only thing his brother had done to him. If he got angry, all hell broke loose. It was like all he saw was red, and no matter how much Pete would beg, scream and cry for him to stop, it made no difference. His brother would hit him with whatever he could find, as hard as he could. Pete had come out of fights with deep teeth marks from his brother, most of which bled profusely. His parents were either out or too high to give a flying fuck, mumbling ‘boys will be boys’ in their smoke filled haze. Even after all of this, Pete was certain he still loved his big brother.
Pete felt blank, emotionless, and desolate, as the drama of his 10th birthday played out. He had a lot to live up to, after all, his brother had landed a high flying career in the city’s order. As per usual, Pete couldn’t live up to this, as he walked up to receive his shimmering purple mask. He watched his parents disgusted look as they walked out, abandoning him in the grand hall.
Not much has changed in that time. Just like then, all he wants is to feel, and he wants it more than anything. Eventually he decided that if all he could feel was pain, then that would fucking do. It was something he could do just for him, and gave him a tentative control of something in his life. It was something his parents and brother couldn’t affect, even if they wanted to. It was something he could do to get over his own self loathing, and he could do it without thinking about consequences. In some sort of sick, twisted way, it made him feel safe. Safe was good. Safe was rare for Pete, and was something to be cherished. He liked this safe, even if it was just an illusion, paper thin and easily shattered, bringing him down to the reality he knew he would have to face up to eventually. But, for now, that could hold off for a while. He loved his dream world, and certainly wasn’t giving up on it without a fight.
Sign up to rate and review this story