Birds of a feather flock together

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A/N: Trigger warning for mentions of suicide and depression.

_ _ _ 

"I overheard my father on a phone call one night. He was going to lead me into the woods and murder me. As I got older, I began resisting his philosophy more and more. I couldn't stand him," Chan shook his head. "I couldn't stand any of it. He wanted me to join him in murdering innocent people. He wanted me to commit those crimes myself, but I kept refusing." 

"The next morning after that phone call, he said we were going out to eat. We had spent years hiding in different disguises. That morning, we never had any and I wasn't born yesterday. When I realized we were heading towards the woods, I freaked out. I knew he had a gun with him. If he made it to the woods, it was game over for me." 

"So you caused the car to crash?" 

"I jerked the wheel unexpectedly. It freaked him out and he started cursing. He lost control of the truck and it flipped a few times. When it landed, I was shaken up, but unharmed. He was knocked out and I didn't have a lot of time. There was a hammer in the back, so I grabbed it and I-" 

"Oh, god," Kiera muttered. She squeezed her eyes shut and held up her hand. "For the love of my queasy stomach, don't you dare finish that sentence. I get it, you killed him." 

"The rest of the story is simple. I walked back to our hideout and I ended up stealing a car. I befriended someone who made me a fake identity and used my dad's money to stay at a hotel. I stayed there for a while until I eventually met the members one by one. I've been on a mission to remove filth from the world ever since." 

"That sounds exhausting." 

"I wouldn't trade it for the world. So now that I've put my confession out there, what's yours?" Chan walked over and sat down on the edge of Kiera's bed. 

"My story isn't nearly as exciting as yours." 

"Give it your best shot." 

Kiera's eyes met Chan's. She hadn't been expecting him to sit on the edge of her bed. The first time he had sat on the edge of her bed, the two of them had been strangers. He had traded his gun for Felix's wolf plushie. Chan had sat down with his arms wrapped around it. It took everything inside of Kiera for her not to laugh. 

"Like you, I grew up with both parents. My dad worked a lot and my mom was a stay at home mom. My dad had always been passionate about his beliefs and then he found his footing in politics when I was about ten. He was always emotionally distant and left my mom to do all the parenting." 

"I guess there's not much to say. My mom kind of became obsessed with the idea of being 'famous' as she considered it to be. She threw herself into charity work. She grew to love it, but in the beginning, she only did charity work because she wanted notoriety for it. My father's political career exploded." 

"He was a small town mayor and then he was involved with the state senators and congress. I've lost track of everything he's done, but he's narcissistic. He plays the role of a doting father, but behind closed doors, he reminds me of a monster." 

"He's loud and explosive. He gets angry and he throws things sometimes. The counter-tops faced his wrath and the cupboards felt every hit. He used to get into fights with my mom over the silliest things and she'd always be the one apologizing. He's an awful father and my mother wasn't always a shitty mom, but she sure was when she died."

"I have a question," Chan spoke. 

"Shoot." 

"There's a news article out there that says you tried to attempt suicide when you were younger, but there's not much information on it." 

"That's not surprising considering that I was a kid."

"Is it too personal to ask why you tried to kill yourself? You seemed like you had everything going right in your life. There's even photographs of you from when you were heavily involved in your school's clubs."

"When we're kids, all we want to do is to be loved. We want to be appreciated and we want praise. Every child deserves to be loved and I wasn't loved. My parents merely tolerated me. All those school clubs, they forced me into doing them with threats." 

"If I didn't do them, my laptop would be taken away. I'd get grounded and be unable to hang out with friends for weeks at a time. My cell phone would get held hostage in a safe that was located in my parents' closet. It was so easy to threaten me and take away the things I enjoyed. I suffered through all the clubs and too much forced socialization." 

"I was barely acknowledged by my parents at all. My dad started to have more opportunities for his career. He wanted us to appear to be a good family, so he'd schedule me to attend dinners and events with him and my mom. I started to become isolated from my friends because of it. I became lonely and I tried..." Kiera's voice broke. 

She swallowed to get her voice to stop wavering. "I-I tried to get help. I knew I was falling into a pit of depression. I tried to talk to my mom about it, but she had just brushed it off without a second thought. It was heavily implied that I was being dramatic and that my life was perfect. I spiraled and I ended up swallowing a bunch of medication from my bathroom." 

She blinked back the tears that prickled in her eyes. "I- um," she sniffled. "Sorry, I shouldn't be getting so choked up, it was years ago. I should be over it by now." 

"Don't apologize, you were just a kid." 

She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I ended up going to soccer practice later that day and I passed out. When I got to the hospital, I came clean about what I did. I thought that maybe my parents might realize how much I needed help, but it just got me lectured. My father used my story for political gain. He became a big advocate for mental health, but if he really would have been an advocate, he would have become my advisor." 

"Sounds like a classic grade A asshole." 

Kiera chuckled, "you have no idea. I ended up getting pulled out of school after that. I did all my school online, but my mom forced me into a bunch of volunteering stuff. Part of me understands because I needed the social interaction, but another part of me loathes her."

"I can't help you with your mom, but we're going to get your dad back." 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" 

"It's actually both."



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