I Will Not Expect Anything From My Ungrateful Father Novels & Stories

Even though the thought of breaking up with Jack feels like I'm ripping out my own heart, I can't see him get hurt or much less lose everything he's worked so hard for. "Ungrateful little brat! I gave you everything, but then you decided to pay me back by dragging my name through the mud!" Father screams, taking slow steps towards me, but I don't move a muscle; I stand there until he's a few inches closer and towering over me. I am not scared anymore, but I know why: it is because I don't care anymore. I have no desire to please him or to make him see that I am more than a mistake. I'm done.

"Worthless brats! You should be grateful I am paying for your mother's hospital bills and the tuition for your fancy schools! Not just for you Katrina but even for this bast*rd son your mom brought home and dumped on me to take care of! Who on earth does that if not me? So you should be thanking me, you fools! You are nothing but worthless burdens upon me!" Hmm, grateful, my foot! As if we should thank him for doing what he did… for deceiving and betraying my mom, for usurping her company, for maltreating us, for being the evil, wicked man he is. Really, if one could disown his/ her own parent, I would have long since disowned my dad and drained the part of my blood that I got from him. Beca

Trying my best to give an attentive ear, I looked at him expectantly. “I really don’t think I have the courage to hear It all, you have gone through a lot and I hope by now, you should chalk it up to the fact that your father was just a horrible man and the worst father to have existed, children are to be taken care off, not using like they are some piece of bad clothes, it is extremely annoying .” I gritted out while clenching my fist, standing up immediately, I released a sigh while closing my eyes after figuring that the piece of ass called their father might have probably offered him and his brother on a platter of gold to repay his debt.

But I learned, a long time ago, not to expect any gratitude from my father. It didn’t matter that I spent my whole life in his shadow, carrying out his grunt work. He was doing me a favor. His unwanted child. His bastard child. “Sure,” I say, my tongue tucked in front of my upper teeth as my smile stretches, brittle and thin. “Whatever you want.” He nods and leans back, his eyes sliding shut. I wait a minute. Then another. My gaze drifts over his decrepit body—the way his clothes hang loosely from his shoulders, fabric swallowed by bone. His cheekbones jut sharply, his skin sinking inward, his eyes hollowed out like something carved and left behind.

"What was good for having unbreakble connections and power? When you've never been here at your home? In your family? Did you ever think sometimes that we need you here? You know sometimes, I'll already forget that I have father because on any special occassion you aren't here to spend it with us. You are not here. So what would I expect?" "I'm just wanting you to understand me that I want to love freely, I want to be happy but you are not allowing it! Because you're so selfish! YOU'RE REALLY REALLY SELFISH DAD! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!! I JUST WISH THAT YOU ARE NOT MY DAD AND NEVE-" I turned my faced in the side when he threw his hand to my face. "DID THAT GUY TEACH YOU HOW TO BE RUDE?!!" He ex

"You're every bit as selfish as the rest of them. Why should I keep pretending to be the bigger person?" Padre's face darkened, and all pretense he had for me vanished. He jabbed a finger at me and snapped, "If Lucia hadn't met with that accident, do you really think you'd be living this life of luxury? You're only here because you're living her life. You're just as ungrateful as your Madre!" I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. The hatred inside me was so fierce it felt like I was drowning. But since I was leaving anyway, there was no point pretending anymore.

They won't see me coming, I swore. "Thank you, father," I muttered over his shoulder, glancing at mother's grave through vision blurred by tears. "And thank you for loving me unconditionally. I'd chose you over again if I had the chance. You made me who I am today, and for that, I'll forever be grateful. If not in this world, perhaps in the one to come, I'll make it up to you." "Don't be silly, son," father said, thinking I was talking to him. "You owe me nothing. I'm your father, and it's my duty to always protect you."

“Into the polished cages and spotless expectations. You raised me to be a trophy, not a daughter.” Silence again. My mother was the first to speak. “You’re ungrateful,” she whispered, venom wrapped in silk. “We gave you everything.” “No,” I corrected. “You gave me everything you wanted. Not what I needed. Not what made me happy.” My father scoffed. “Happy is a child’s word. Adults understand duty.” I clenched the phone tighter. “Well, then call me a child,” I said. “Because I want a life that feels like mine. Not a photo shoot.”

But his words cut deep, and I couldn’t ignore them. “Despite everything, despite your PTSD, your struggles, Dave has stood by your side,” my father continued, his voice gentle but firm. “He has been there for you through it all, and now you want to act like an ungrateful person and leave?” “I’m not ungrateful,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I’m just... I’m just so tired, Dad. I’m tired of feeling like I owe them my life. I’m tired of feeling like I’m trapped in this... this nightmare.”

I said. “That is not true, Kavan; you are such an ungrateful brat who cannot see the good deeds his father has been doing for him. You are just a self-centered person who only cares about himself and what favors only him,” he responded. “How dumb can you be, Marcus? Do you want to act now that you do not know my father, the kind of man he is?” I said.