Blame

Blame
He paused, "It seems I hear the same stories everyday.” His breath hitched as he said it. His ocean swirling, blue eyes were fixed on the floor. His shiny, blonde locks dangled against his left cheek. He held his hands together as he sat crisscrossed on the cold wooden floor. The floor was cold, in fact the entire room was. He licked his lips and forced his eyes to look forward. His reflection stared back. He hated his reflection. The blonde brushed his hair back and off to the side. His reflection mimicked him. He let out a growl, his eyes slightly becoming whiter, and glowy. A few white wisps emerged from the edges of his eyes. He closed his and bawled his fists. 

Through gritted teeth, he mumbled two words, “Calm, down.” He rubbed his face and gave a deep sigh. 

It was the same shit as always. Yeah, Brian was a demigod and the son of Herobrine. At times he really hated himself for it. People seemed to blame everything on him when in fact, a vast majority was never his fault. It would make his blood boil but wouldn't do anything about it. He couldn't. He could only listen to the same stories of accusations. He had enough of them. 

The demigod, hated that he was feared but if he were to show it only more such terrible stories would arise. This time though, he was alone. Nobody would tell stories of the monster that broke down in a fit of self-hatred. They wouldn't see the real him, they wouldn't see the rising tears that pricked his eyes. Brian slowly pulled himself up and stood in front of his mirrored self. He placed his hands on the cold, smooth glass. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, alone. He gave a smirk, his solemn expression returning. His fingers were pressed on the glass. He was alone. Nobody would make stories.

His eyes snapped open, pulled back a fist and slammed it into his reflection in a fit of rage. His fist against the mirror hurt as it made impact. He let out a cry of pain, his knuckles being a bit bloody. The glass cracked and some shards flew past him, making contact with the floor, his distorted reflection flying across the room. And ugly sob emerged out of his throat as tears fell like waterfalls down his face. Stories could be bent and twisted, and he seemed to be added to every one of them. It seemed the world always needed someone to blame and that someone was him.