Family Similarities

Father had always been so much like Chris.

They were spitting images of each other, and suffice to say they shared many, many traits; the same cascading rivulets of blonde hair, tanned skin tone, and sharp green eyes that glinted under the sunlight like crushed emeralds. Even the little things bore unnerving resemblances; they had the same stance, annunciation of words, the same way of explaining things.

Father had always been so much like Chris.

They only difference was that Chris was an arrogant bastard apropos to my father, who was a quiet, humble man. I loved Father. But Chris always had ways of push my buttons and pulling my hair without falling under my parents radar. It irked me, and the annoyance he always enjoyed injecting into me settled to the bottom of my heart like raindrops in a jar.

Father had always been so much like Chris.

I remember the one day I finally cracked. There was only so much rain a jar could hold, and I had reached my limit. I sat by my mother, who was knitting with large, metal knitting needles, when I saw a familiar shape pass by. He nudged my leg, hard, as he walked by, and I heard a muffled apology.

But I would take no more.

I grabbed the closest thing to me, and launched it into the back of those blonde curls. I saw a glint of metal as one of mother’s needles flew by. I smiled a twisted smile as the sound of metal skewering flesh filled the room. Mom screamed, and I felt triumph rise within me as looked up to the needle sticking out of the back of his head. Footsteps charged out form the corridor. Familiar ones. Chris ran out, about to ask what happened when his mouth simply hung open. My face paled.

Father had always been so much like Chris.

—
Credits to: Mr_Halloween

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