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“Tell me, what, what is it you feel?” His father almost-yells at him sternly.
”I’m tired of you, always wanting me to be a doctor without thinking of me!”
Thomas Perry had never heard Neil talk back to him, let alone this angry.
”This — play of yours was an embarrassment! Do you understand what you’ve done?”
”Yes I do, you clearly don’t. I hate all of this summer school I had to do because you wanted to live your life through me. And honestly, do you want a dead son? Because you’ll be getting a dead fucking son if i need to do Chemistry again.”
He almost regretted speaking to his father, almost. Having blurted his heart out, he hadn’t meant that last part to slip, but there was no use now.
”Oh, will you stop with your Theatrics!? Neil, I’m doing this for you for your future.”
Neil’s anger wasn’t pleasant, if he had power, he’d run, far, far away, connect with his friends, maybe confess to a special someone.
But, right now, his anger feels like a thousand suns, ready to scorch anyone in his presence.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed, he was not going to become a second Thomas. Never.
”You clearly aren’t! Because if you did it for my ‘future‘ you’d care about my feelings, and what I really want.”
God, he was utterly impossible, why was he ever even a parent?
”I did everything for you Neil — I PAID for your education, I sent you to Welton because it’s the best school in the area, and you still refuse to think of your future? How long is this phase of yours going to last?”
Neil had never cried so deeply before. He can’t help the anger brewing, the sadness that hugs his very soul like a loving hug.
”I hate you.”
It’s all he could say before stomping up to his room and locking the door for safe measures. He sits and thinks, and it’s all he’s been doing recently.
If he died, how would the poets feel? Keating, Todd? Especially, Todd? He loves life, he truly does, but some days feel impossible.
Maybe he was impossible.