She Threw My Fathers Soul Away

When my mother became the CEO, she threw her husband and son away like yesterdays trash to build a lavish love nest with the one who got away.

And yet, my poor father spent his days and nights hoping she would have a change of heart. Even as he lay dying, her name was the last thing on his lips.

Unable to watch him leave this world anchored by such a heavy regret, I swallowed my pride and dialed her number.

"How many times do I have to spell it out for you?" she snapped, her voice dripping with impatience. "Make an appointment with my assistant!"

I looked at my fathers desperate, fading eyes and pleaded, "Victoria, please. Dad won't last much longer. I'm begging you to just come and look at him one last time. Give him peace."

Seeing that I wouldn't back down, she lashed out. "Will my presence magically bring him back from the brink? What is he even holding on for? If he's going to die, he should just get it over with! Stop wasting my time!"

The line went dead. And with that dial tone, my father entirely gave up his will to live. He passed away, swallowing a sorrow so deep it fractured my soul.

I gently reached out and closed his vacant eyes. "In the end, she got exactly what she wanted."

1.

Directly across the street from the hospital, the marching band of St. Judes Preparatory Academy was playing, the air thick with the sound of cheering and celebratory fireworks. They were throwing a massive graduation gala.

The star of that gala was Spencer Piercemy mothers beloved adopted son, who had just been crowned the states National Merit Scholar.

Basking in the envious gazes of the city's elite, my motheracting in her dual capacity as a major board member and the proud mother of the valedictorianstood on stage, beaming as she pinned a medal to Spencers chest and handed him a massive scholarship check.

The noise and the triumph belonged to them. Just two blocks away, inside a sterile hospital room, there was only a suffocating silence.

My father had left this world steeped in regret. He hadnt even wanted to close his eyes.

A few nurses and the attending doctor bowed their heads deeply toward me. "We did everything we could. We are so incredibly sorry for your loss."

The doctor hesitated before handing me a stark white mortality declaration. "Is there any way... could your mother come down to sign this?"

I took the clipboard, the pen feeling like a lead weight in my hand, and signed my own name on the family line.

"She's not available," I said, my voice hollow. "She's across the street at the prep school. Attending a gala."

The doctors mouth opened slightly in shock, but a nurse beside him quickly nudged him, shooting him a warning look.

She had experienced my mother's absolute cruelty firsthand just hours prior.

That morning, when my fathers condition rapidly deteriorated, that same nurse had stayed by my side without leaving for a second. My dad knew his time was up. He finally forced out the words he had been burying for years.

"Connor... I want... I just want to see your mother. One last time."

I couldn't bear to see him leave with that crushing disappointment, so I gritted my teeth and made the call.

And she had said, Will my presence magically bring him back from the brink? What is he even holding on for? If he's going to die, he should just get it over with! Stop wasting my time!

The nurse, bless her heart, had been furious. She snatched the phone from me to make one final, desperate plea. "Ma'am, Thomas Davis is in critical condition. The doctor has issued the final notices. We need you"

"You just want money, don't you? The Davis family is rotten to the core. The father is a pathetic loser who can't stand on his own two feet, and the son is a delinquent street rat. How dare you even call me."

Then, she hung up. When I tried to call back, my number had already been blocked.

"Forget it," my dad had whispered, his breath rattling. "Seeing her... I suppose it doesn't matter anyway." He looked at me, his vision clouding over. "Connor... don't hate your mother."

Two solitary tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, and with a final exhale, my father said goodbye to this world.

I gently brushed my hand over his eyelids, closing them. "Dad, I'm sorry. But I can't not hate her."

2.

My dad used to be a brilliant doctor of internal medicine.

During a joint medical outreach program years ago, his hospital sent him to an elementary school to run physicals for the kids. My mother, a teacher there at the time, happened to overhear one of my dads colleagues teasing himjoking about how a guy whose father was the CEO of the massive Davis Enterprises was slumming it as a public hospital physician.

That very day, my mother made it her mission to get his number. Within a week, she ruthlessly broke off her engagement to her fianc and began relentlessly pursuing my dad.

They say a woman's pursuit is like piercing through papereffortless. Add to that the fact that my mother was stunning, with the polished allure of a movie star, and it only took a few months before they rushed to the courthouse to get married.

After the wedding, my grandfather pulled strings to get her a corporate role at Davis Enterprises. She climbed the ladder fast. After she gave birth to me, she was transferred to corporate headquarters as a director.

Eventually, my grandfather fell ill and had to step down. My mother seamlessly slid into his seat as CEO.

The day my grandfather died, my mother entirely dropped the act. The mask shattered, revealing the monster underneath.

"Let me be completely honest with you, Thomas," she had said, standing in our living room with ice in her veins. "The only reason I married you was because your daddy ran the board. Now he's dead. Your family has nothing left to offer me. There is absolutely zero reason for me to stay."

My dad broke down, begging her not to tear our family apart.

Unbelievably, my mother turned it around on him. "When you stole me away, did you ever stop to think about the agony you caused another man?"

"Donovan gave up his own future for me fifteen years ago. He had to let me go. Do you know how many times he tried to end his own life over the years? If I hadn't been there to stop him, he'd be in the ground. You can't be this selfish, Thomas. I gave you the best years of my youth. What more do you want? Are you really going to stand in the way of true love?"

That was the moment my father realized the woman he cherished more than his own life had never loved him at all.

He let go. He stepped aside so my mother could be with her "one that got away," Donovan Pierce.

The very next day, my mother used Davis family money to buy a sprawling estate for Donovan, a "compensation" for having abandoned him. She eagerly adopted Donovans teenage son, Spencer, and used her corporate leverage to pull him out of his failing public school and drop him right into the most elite honors program at St. Judes.

As for me? Simply because Spencer offhandedly mentioned he "didn't want to see my face in the hallways," my mother forcibly transferred me out of St. Jude's and threw me into Southside Highthe absolute worst, most notoriously underfunded public school in the city.

My dad was terrified my future would be destroyed. He went to her office multiple times to fight for me.

Her response? She claimed I was mediocre anyway. She said the only reason I ever got into St. Jude's was because of her influence, and she explicitly blacklisted me from every other decent school in the district, ensuring no one else would take me.

My old homeroom teacher from St. Jude's used to sneak me advanced placement tests in the evenings. Every time he handed me a stack of papers, his eyes would well with pity. "The valedictorian of his class, forced to study in a dump like this. What kind of mother destroys her own flesh and blood?"

Then hed shake his head, sighing bitterly. "And that adopted golden boy of hers, Spencer? The kid is practically illiterate. Your mother ordered all his teachers to pass him, but you can't polish dirt. God, what a mess."

My chest would tighten. Id duck my head, thank my mentor, and sprint back to my cramped bedroom to furiously work through the equations.

She wanted to bury me in the mud. But I refused to let myself rot.

"Connor Davis? Your father's remains have been cremated. Please come to the front desk to receive the urn."

The wooden box was so small, so perfectly square. I stood there staring at it, unable to process how my fatherthe giant of a man who used to carry me on his shoulders, my immovable mountainhad been reduced to this tiny, confined space.

I wiped the tears from my face and took him home for the last time.

The road to heaven is long, Dad. Don't forget the way back home.

Early the next morning, I packed a bag, preparing to head to the cemetery to pick out a burial plot.

The moment I opened my front door, two burly men in cheap police uniforms were blocking my path.

"Connor Davis? We received an anonymous tip that your father, Thomas, helped you cheat on your SATs and college entrance exams. You're coming with us for questioning."

Their faces were hardened and mean. They didn't stand or speak like real cops.

My dad wasn't even in the ground yet. There was no way I was going quietly into the back of an unmarked car.

"Sure, Officers," I said smoothly. "Let me just tie my shoe."

I crouched down, pretending to fiddle with my laces. The second they glanced away, I bolted.

I barely made it out of the apartment complex before they caught up to me. The two of them tackled me onto the concrete, pinning my face to the asphalt.

"Little punk thinks he can play games with us? Let's see you run now!"

One of them pulled back his heavy steel-toed boot and brought it down viciously on my kneecap. I heard the sickening, unmistakable crack of splintering bone.

"Ahhhh!"

Instantly, the veins in my neck bulged. I writhed on the pavement, screaming in blinding, white-hot agony.

One of them ran up to my apartment and came back down. "Thomas isn't there. Just throw the kid in the car and let's go."

They dragged me to a windowless, concrete room. Four blank white walls.

The two men sat across from me at an iron table. "Connor, do you know why we brought you here?"

Their act was embarrassingly amateurish, and I had zero interest in playing along. I clamped my mouth shut and glared at them.

"You know how this works. Confess now, and it goes easy on you. So spit it outhow did you cheat on the exams?"

"I didn't cheat!"

Hearing that, one of them stood up, unholstering a heavy nightstick. He stepped into my space, looming over me. "We did a full background check. A street rat from a garbage school like yours doesn't pull a near-perfect score. You better start talking, kid, before I make you talk!"

He slammed the baton down onto the table right in front of my chest. The recoil was so violent the stick slipped from his grip, the heavy rubber end snapping up and smashing directly into my forehead.

My fathers death had happened so fast. I hadnt had time to process it, hadn't had time to breathe. The immense pressure building inside my chest chose this exact moment to violently detonate.

I screamed right back into their faces, "What the hell is wrong with my school?! Are you saying the kids there are handed a death sentence the day they enroll? That we don't deserve to get high scores? That we don't deserve a way out? That we don't deserve a future?!"

"You want proof of my scores? Fine! I'll give it to you. But you tell Victoria she's going to regret this for the rest of her miserable life!"

I unzipped my blood-stained backpack, reached inside, and pulled out the crisp, embossed acceptance letter from MIT.

"Here is your damn proof!"

Before they could even react, I ripped the letter in half. Then into quarters. I tore it into absolute shreds and threw it into the air like confetti.

"Holy shit, the crazy bastard just ripped up an MIT acceptance letter!"

"Do me a favor," I spat, blood trickling down my brow. "Tell Victoria the letter is gone. I'm not going to college anymore."

The two men stared at each other, completely bewildered. After a silent exchange of panicked looks, one of them finally stepped out into the hall to make a frantic phone call.

3.

Inside the ballroom of the citys most exclusive country club, Victoria Croft was hosting a lavish gala for Spencer.

Her phone buzzed. It was the hired thug, his voice panicked. "Ms. Croft, the kid tore up his acceptance letter! He said he's not going to college!"

Victoria couldn't have cared less whether I went to college or died in a gutter. She gripped her champagne flute tightly. "What about the proof? Did he admit to the cheating? Did you get the recording?"

"No, the kid is tough. He won't crack. We didn't get anything."

"Then try harder," she hissed. "Make it hurt. I don't believe for a second he won't break."

"Ms. Croft, we shattered his kneecap and he still didn't say a word. I think he knows we're not real cops. What do we do now?"

Conscious of the wealthy donors milling around her, Victoria kept her voice at a venomous whisper. "You absolute useless idiots. You can't even handle a teenager? Where is Thomas?"

"He wasn't at the apartment when we got there. Ms. Croft... what if this kid goes to the real cops?"

"I am his mother," Victoria sneered. "If he dares go to the police, I'll have you break his other leg."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Anything involving Thomas and Connor was always an exhausting, humiliating stain on her perfect life. She often daydreamed about the two of us getting into a fatal car crash, just so she could finally have some peace and quiet.

Donovan noticed her tense posture and slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"Tell me," he murmured smoothly. "Who's upsetting my beautiful girl? Just say the word and I'll take care of them."

The heat of his breath immediately melted Victoria's temper. She leaned back against him, pouting. "It's just those two useless Davis losers. They always find a way to ruin my mood."

"Well, I have some bad news," Donovan sighed. "Those two idiots I hired couldn't squeeze a confession out of the boy. I told them to just let him go."

Victoria spun around, alarmed. "Why would you let him go? If he won't talk, you beat it out of him! Or just forge some evidence and force his thumbprint onto it!"

"Victoria, hes going to the same city for college as our Spencer. Spencer is a sensitive, gentle boy. Connor is a thug. Hell bully our son to death."

My mother looked at him, surprised by the intensity of his malice.

Donovan quickly caught himself and softened his tone. "Thats part of it, yes. But mostly... I did this to protect you, my love."

"Connor goes to a slum of a high school. Its a miracle if a single kid from there gets into community college, let alone MIT. When the board of education sees a fairy tale like that, theyre going to investigate. And when they look closely at him, theyll look closely at you. It will drag your name through the mud."

He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "My darling, you bled to get the CEO seat. I won't let some delinquent ruin your empire. Thats why we needed to get a confession first. If you proactively threw him to the wolves, the public would praise you for your integrity. You'd be a hero."

Victoria pouted. "But you let him go. Now what?"

"Don't worry," Donovan cooed. "I'll find another way to get the evidence."

Victoria looked up at him, her eyes misty with adoration. "You're always protecting me. I love you so much."

4.

The two thugs dumped me on the asphalt in front of the emergency room doors, shouting a final warning to keep my mouth shut or Victoria would ruin me.

A security guard saw me crawling across the pavement and rushed over with a wheelchair, rushing me straight to orthopedics.

The surgeon held up my X-rays, his face grim. "Connor, your knee is completely shattered. The bone is splintered. You need a total knee replacement surgery immediately. Where are your parents? I need them here to sign the consent forms."

"They can't come," I rasped, gripping the armrests. "My dad just passed away. Can I sign it myself?"

"No, you're not eighteen yet. It has to be a legal guardian."

Right on cue, my phone rang. It was my mother.

"Where the hell is Thomas?!" she barked through the speaker. "I've called him a dozen times and hes ignoring me! Where is he hiding?"

"I told you three days ago he was dying. He's dead, Victoria. Did you finally get what you wanted?"

"Connor Davis, is this how Thomas taught you to speak to your mother?" she mocked. "With an attitude like that, no wonder you have to cheat to get into MIT. Who would ever believe you earned it?!"

"Listen to me clearly, you little brat. I am going to find out exactly how you and your father pulled off this fraud, and I am going to personally hand you over to the authorities!"

The surgeon standing next to me was completely speechless. It took him a moment to process the sheer vitriol before he leaned in toward the phone. "Mrs. Davis? This is Connor's doctor. Your son's knee is severely fractured and requires emergency surgery. Can you please come down to the hospital?"

"Do I sound like I have the time?" she snapped. "And you have the wrong person. I am not his guardian."

"But Connor said..."

"Did he say his father is dead? Doctor, let me give you a piece of advice. Those two are pathological liars and grifters. Don't believe a word that comes out of their mouths."

She shifted her venom back to me. "Connor, you went through all this effort to fake an injury just to make me feel guilty? Keep dreaming. Even if you and Thomas died right in front of me, I wouldn't bat an eye."

She hung up. The harsh beep echoed in the sterile room.

The doctor let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Doctor," I said, my voice dead calm. "Just treat me as an orphan."

He didn't argue anymore.

The next morning, they wheeled me into the operating room.

When I woke up, the surgeon stood at the foot of my bed. "Connor, once you finish physical therapy, you'll be able to walk completely normally. But... you can never play competitive sports or do any intense physical activities again."

I didn't feel an ounce of regret.

Because for the first time, there was titanium in my body. A piece of me was completely my own. I wasn't entirely made of the flesh and blood that monster had given me anymore.