There was not a single soul that heard of it. Not even my siblings. I had to let them know. I had to let all of them know. But he wouldn't let me. All to preserve his own image. I've always hated that part of him. He only cares about himself. Narcissistic prick.               

      That's when I realized I wouldn't get any support when it was time to be thrown out. All of his friends would turn their backs on me, as if I never set foot in the house at all. In all honesty, it could've been worse with them. I've seen their looks. I've heard of their stunts. Maybe the outside world was more accepting of me.                                                                

      That was a yes and no situation for me.

        “You are never to set foot near this damn house, you hear me?!” an enraged man roared. That man happened to be my father. All noise in the room was being directed towards me- not a pleasant experience to my eardrums or mentality. He's never been like this to me- at least, not when I'm there. Today was different though. Nobody made themselves known to be in the house, so it had only been me and Father. The perfect opportunity to let loose, he might've thought.

        I stood in front of him, staring at the carpeted floor for what seemed like half an hour. It'd gotten tainted with my tears. That was the least of my worries, however. My father was more focused on exploding for the reason that I didn't live up to his grand expectations. I did have a choice. I could’ve. But I didn’t.

        Father's train - level roaring dies down, degrading into a frustrated medium-level tone. “Do you hear me boy? Never again. You'd better hope somebody out there finds your presence somewhat comforting, boy. You bring shame to me and my name. You are no longer considered a Fomalhaut,”

      I felt my hair being violently pulled. The floor looked like it was sinking before my eyes.

      “-and so you can,”

      In seconds, I was dragged to the main entrance of the house.

      “-go to,”

      Father kicked the door open, sending ripples of air throughout the room. My face was bombarded with the foreign winds of the outside.

      “-hell!”

      I couldn't remember anything but a sharp pain in my back after that. Ten minutes passed, and all I did was lay down on the soft green grass in front of the house for the very last time of my life. Pondering.

      I didn't ask for this life.

      “You're filth in my eyes,”  his words echoed.

      The grass was getting uncomfortably cold- it was night time. It's only a matter of time before Father figures out I've been sitting in front of his house for well over half an hour. There was a risk of dying right here right now, but I didn't want to take that. It was time to leave. What good would staying here do for me at this point?