Once he was outside, in the cold night air, of a nearby winter, Zack balled his fists together.

  Fuck!

  Fuck this!

  Fuck HIM!

  Zack roared into the midnight air, then crouched down and pounded his fists in the dirt.

  Fuck his father!

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  "Why did you do this to me? I thought I was your son!" Zack whimpered. "Don't treat me like the freak I am!"

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  The memories played in his head now. They repeated like an old record. The gunshots, the weapons, the angry villagers, his own father willing to shoot his son like he was nothing but a disease now! Nothing but a predator.

  A predator.

  Zack screamed again, only louder this time. "I'm still human, Father!"

  The anguish he felt..the burning anger...the hatred...

  What happened after the incident? Has his father not felt anything at all afterwards? Like good riddance?

  Zack sniffled at these thoughts that played in his mind. "I'm not a monster, Father!"

  Did his father feel any remorse? Does he know how he made him feel? Does he know how much it hurt?

  Zack clenched the grass with his hands. "FUCK!" He shouted.

  Fuck! If his father REALLY does see him as a predator, and doesn't know his pain....then he'll just have to see for himself!

  Then it was like he had fallen asleep................nothing, but like a play only he was watching.....