EYY GUYS! IF YOU READ THIS, KEEP IN CAUTION THAT THERE WILL BE PHYSICAL BULLYING/ABUSE, SO IF THAT WILL TRIGGER YOU IN ANY WAY, DO NOT READ. Your well-being is so important to me! I DIDN'T LIKE THE OTHER FIRST CHAPTER AND I'M GOING TO CHANGE A FEW THINGS FOR THE 4 OF YOU WHO READ IT. Also, I put this "Missing Halloween" by Mike Inel. That thing is bc the music is amazing and it gives the chapter beginning the "mood" and it's just relaxing! Music here: https://soundcloud.com/mikeinel/missinghalloween on soundcloud (I don't have it, but I listen to it sometimes >.<) And Each of my chapters on here has all 3 POVs in it unless it's a special circumstance. The order will almost always be Jack; Melody; Zack. Poor Zacky is last.

I really hope you guys enjoy this, and remember that the original book (just extra scenes that aren't in this version) is right here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/80342907-the-son-of-solangelo-this-is-bonus-stuff which you can check out on my profile. Also while you're there, give me a follow maybe? No? Okay.

KEY THINGY:

★★★★ = New Thought

Papa = Will Solace

Dad = Nico (di Angelo) Solace

★★★★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

❤ＣＨAＰＴEＲ OＮE ❤

Part One 
💫 𝕁AＣ𝕂 : Ｓ𝕋AＲS 💫

Have you ever felt so sick of watching life pass by? Every day, the time trudges on without a care in the world for whom it leaves behind. I don't dwell on the past, or else time will leave me behind. But for now, I will spare some of my precious time to tell you my story. It all begins on a late evening when I was thirteen years old, when my life was but dawning over me...

Once upon a moment, I laid on night-time grass, fresh with evening dew, transfixed by the stars. White, gleaming suns seemed to sparkle, a great contrast to the pitch black sky, which I always associated with a barrier, blocking me from the world beyond, the true, darkness of space. But the thing blocking me was light pollution. To think, light, commonly associated with warmth, comfort, and goodness, the thing blocking us from beyond.

What might that mean? I contemplate it all the time. Perhaps it means to see the darkness. See the bad things in life, go through the pitch, lonely darkness, in order to see the infinite universe beyond, the possibilities and the hope. For stars cannot shine without light-less obscurity and darkness. It is believed that the thing blocking our views from the most beautiful stars, is light itself. Weigh the good side and the bad side, don't be hopelessly optimistic, neither barried in sad thoughts.

I heard shuffling next to me, and looked away from the stars. A girl sat next to me, her knees pulled away from her chest, but still bent. Her elbows propped onto the cold, mild grass behind her, and she leaned back, laying her weight onto her elbows. She had blond princess curls pulled back into a curly, messy pony tail. Her make up accentuated her azure blue eyes, which I always saw the stars in, regardless of that very moment which her eyes reflected the beauty of the suns illuminating the sky. Her smile was natural, easy, and laid back. She was so beautiful, yet she always felt ugly. Sometimes, I wish I could show her how gorgeous she is, and express it in a way to give her my vision.

She looked at me, and I may have smiled. "Hi, Nugget." She greeted me, her smile growing.

"Greetings and Salutations, Melody." I said, drawing my attention to her rather than my thoughts.

"So how was your day, Nugget Child?" She asked me, fidgeting with my hair, which I didn't mind because I was used to it at this point.

"Why must you insist on calling me 'Nugget Child'?"

"Because you are a nugget. And I asked you a question."

"It was fine..."

"Was it really that bad?" She asked, probably catching on to me insisting I was fine all the time.

I shrugged. "I mean, it was our first day back, and I missed you..." I said, knowing it sounded clingy. To be honest, we have known each other since we were tiny, but only till I was ten years old that I stopped loathing her. We eventually became friends. I remember it like it was yesterday...

Ten year old me felt like breaking into tears. I had been beaten by Melody Jackson, yet again, her foot pounding relentlessly into my side, pushing me further and further against the rough brick wall, which ripped at my skin, causing it to break up and bleed. It felt like I had absorbed that pain, like it ran through my veins, threatening to pulse inside me, throbbing like a second heartbeat. of course, this had gone on for too long, for years.

The pain pulsed inside me as I limped home, bleeding from many different wounds. Then, through thick branches, I saw a girl. I hardly recognized her. Her smile was gone, that fierce, satisfied look in her eyes was gone. My god, she looked so helpless, weak, everything that I knew her not to be. She reminded me of myself, sitting alone in the trees of the forest, isolating myself, alone, helpless, weak, depressed....

This wasn't the Melody Jackson I knew. Her blonde hair hung in her face. Her large, blue eyes without their sparkle. I wanted to help her. My dad has always told me that was my weakness. I helped other people so much, that I never think to help myself. But here my bully was, my opposite, being exactly like me.

I started to climb the tree, despite my leg that drooped below the branch, unable to support me without pain pulsing through my body. I climbed to the branch below the one she was on., My muscels burning with effort, sweat dripping by my ear that I really wanted to wipe away, and my whole body was throbbing like a second heartbeat.

She held out a hand for me, and I obliged. I climbed onto the branch, and she smiled at me. A genuin, kind smile that rest so easily on her lips. "Jack?" She asked, her voice soft and frail.

"That's me." I said, grinning.

"Why are you here? After I hurt you?"

"I want to help you." I told her. "Come with me." And we climbed down from the tree together, and began a friendship that I wouldn't be here without.

To be completely honest, I had spent almost the entire summer with Melody. She was like a sister to me.

"Aww!" She 'booped' my nose. "That is the cutest thing I have ever heard!" She said, teasingly, as if I was a baby. "Goochie goo!" She said, as she pinched my cheeks and I tried to make a pouting face.

"Shut up!" I complained, trying to swat her hand away, starting to smile, which I wasn't proud of.

"Oh, why don't you make me?"

"Because I'm lazy."

"Valid answer."

"I know, I'm a genius." I joked.

"I think you grades say otherwise."

"Shut your face hole."

"Hmm I think I'd rather you put something in my other hole." She said, winking.

I rolled my eyes.

"I bet your eyes will stay like that if you keep rolling your eyes at me."

"Hmm, then I'd just be looking at my amazing brain."

"What brain?" She teased, sniggering.

"Screw you, Melody!" I laughed, a really, hearty laugh, for the first time that day.

"Oh, please do!" She winked again, and this time I winked back, but with both eyes. That caused her to laugh.

------------------------- ＮEＷ ＴＨOUＧＨＴ-------------------------

Peaceful, gentle sleep. My problems lifted from my shoulders for just what feels like a moment. My eyelids droop throughout the day, exhausted-ness looming over me at every second. But as I close my eyes and relax, I feel like I'm hovering over the water, slowly skimming the surface... alone, calm, quiet...

Someone gently shakes me awake, and I roll over, so I didn't have to face the one guilty of waking me from my slumber.

Groaning, I stretched myself across the bed. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do." It was my papa's voice, which was cheerful but tired nonetheless. No one in my family was a morning person. Even though my papa tries to lighten the morning mood, it really does no good.

I closed my eyes again, starting to drift off, when my dad called from the kitchen, "if you wake up you get toast!" And I finally rolled out of bed and sprinted into the kitchen, catching a whiff of fresh-out-of-the-toaster toast with butter. I smiled, content, and found my chair at the table.

After eating, I went up to my room to get dressed, brush my teeth, brush my hair, et cedra. My door was black and had a sign that read: "Doorbell is non-exsistant. Yell DING DONG! and we will answer", with a nine and three quarters sign beneath it. I twisted the doornob, and walked into my "Hell Cave", as I called it. Because I wasn't nessesarily what you would call a "man"... yet.

My room was small, which was appropriate for only one person. I had a twin-sized bed with a huge book quilt. By that I mean the sheet was made out of different pictures of pages in books, all meaninful words. Like "It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well." from Proffessor Dumbledore in the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling, which was my favorite book series of all time. My dad and papa read it to me when I was only six, and I loved it.

My walls were covered in posters, including a large one with Andy Biersack on it, with the words "When people hurt you over and over, think of them like sandpaper. They may scratch and hurt you a bit, but in the end you end up polished and they end up useless." which, in my opinion, was one of the most powerful quotes of all time, by Andy Biersack.

I had other posters as well, like a few My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco ones. I had a few Hamilton quotes around, and some photos of me and Melody, me and my parents. I have always been really close with my parents, but I've found it hard to find friends other than them. Melody has been my first friend sense what seems like forever.

More about my room, the walls were painted dark grey and dark brown. I had black carpet, which felt nice on my toes, even though I normally wore socks or shoes. I had a dark brown desk, with a comfy black chair. I had a tall bookshelf, home of all of my favorite books, including the complete Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling set, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky, The Mark of The Thief by Jennifer A. Nielsen, The False Prince, also by Jennifer A. Nielsen, and a lot more books and amazing authors.

I had a lamp, as I hate the dark, and I always have. I had a closet full of my clothes, and a mirror.

I walked toward the closet, and creaked open the door. Inside, I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror.

Looking at myself in the mirror was strange. I was so... small. Hardly four and a half feet, which is the size of an average ten year old. My hair was almost a half-inch away from being able to put it in a stubby ponytail. My black hair was thick and as soft as Australian Shepherd dog fur, and I always reminded myself of Hiro Hamada from Big Hero 6, which was one of my personal favorite Disney movies. I had swampy sea-green eyes from my father, not bright and colorful like Percy's, but comforting and shattered like my dad's brown eyes, and my birth-father's, from what I hear. I am as pale as Lord Voldemort, my skin a light shade of olive.

My outfit for the day was a black T-shirt, with black skinny jeans that had holes in the knees, which I had a tendency to pick at, which my dad did as well. I had a dark red jacket which I always wore. Always. Hardly anyone saw me without it. I had got it from my birth mom, who I had never actually met, but I had always wondered what she was like. From what I heard, she was lovely, but always hated herself, which reminded me of Melody. She was the kind of person who's smile lit up people's lives, who was amazing without even knowing it. Someone who I wished I could be like, but who am I kidding? I'm just me...

"Jack! Are you ready to go to school?" Dad called, and I snapped out of my thoughts. I ran downstairs, grabbed my backpack, my phone, and my earbuds, and bid my papa and dad a farewell, before heading off to school.  

ＣＨAＲAＣＴØＲ ＰØＶ ＳＷIＴＣＨ 

Part Two 
 💦 𝕄EＬOＤＹ : OＣɆAＮຮ A𝕋 ＮI𝓖Ｈ𝕋 💦 

....They carry me by below my arms, while I kick and scream, but I know it's hopeless... I can't find the air in my lounge... I feel suffocated... I shout "LET ME GO!" One last time before going limp in the arms of two men....

...Into a small room they take me. With blank white walls and a table with a chair, and a large TV screen on the wall, playing several different footage all at the same time, each video played in a small chair. Security footage, I thought....

...They chained my arms to the chairs, even though my arms were so tiny and thin...

...Someone in blue scrubs zoomed in on a specific piece of footage, labeled "R#333x2 2:57 A.M. July 6, 2003." fourteen years ago...

...The footage of the room they were in was large, with a table. On one side of the table, there was a chair that was large and metal. There were shackles on each arm, and chains of all kinds on the torso-area...

..Two men brought in a boy-- no older than five years old, kicking and screaming...

...The men sat him in the large metal chair, and one held him down while the other forces him into the shackles and chains...

The boy started breathing heavily, trying to force his tears to stop, trying hold back. He looked as though every piece of him was breaking before Melody, his soul being whispered away, as he sobbed....

The men moved in on him...

"NO!" I woke up in a cold sweat. I took a deep breath. In, and out... in, and out...

I sat up, my eyes stinging from exhaustion and just waking up. My body felt heavy, shoulders slouched, begging me to lay back down. I wanted to close my tired, burning eyelids.. I was exhausted...

The sky was an orangish color, mixed with pink and bright blue. The sun was just coming up over the horizon...

I started to lay back down on the grass, when a quavering voice spoke "L-leave me alone..."

I looked over, and I saw a small boy, who looked no older than eight or nine.

He had reddish-almond hair, that was wavy and curly at the ends. He had a splash of freckles across his upcurved, elf-like nose. His eyes were unusual -- Hazel green eyes. But it wasn't the color that was unusual. It was something I saw behind them, if that makes sense. Eyes are the gateway to the soul, but the emotion inside was unreadable. Like he could burn down cities, power mad, but at the same time gentle, like the fresh, morning breeze. The kind of one that gives your skin moisture, and gives you energy and life. The kind that helps calm your thoughts. It's cold, and thick, but so smooth and relaxing. The kind that fills your lungs as you breathe in, and you close your eyes to fully take in the moment.

Suddenly, I felt a jolt of deja vu, looking at the boy. A voice inside my head told me that I knew this boy from somewhere. I recognized him. I searched my mind for what seemed like ages, but I could not pin any name to this boy. It gave me a feeling of dissatisfaction, like when there's an actor or voice on a movie and you just know who it is but you forgot their name.

In an abrupt moment, the boy's expression knit with pain, and I looked further up to see a second boy. He had brown, messy dark chocolate brown hair styled in a pompadour. His eyes were a rich, dark blue like the sea at night. He was tall, and muscular. He could be no younger than sixteen. But I knew this boy, and I could, unlike the other boy, recall the name. "Zack Payne."

"You say my name as if it's toxic." He says with fake offence in his voice.

"It's not your name that's toxic." I told him, my voice bitter.

"Why do you hate me so much? I think I'm amazing!" But something in his eyes said differently.

"Well, let's see. You have bullied Jack for years, you used to bully me too, and you parade around like you are the best person on the planet!"

"But I am the best person on the planet!"

I rolled my eyes. "Grow up, Zack. You want to be treated like an adult? Act like one."

"You can't judge me when you haven't made any effort to understand me. Have you ever thought about seeing me as a real human with my own problems?"

"But you are a problem." I said, and he turned around and started walking away.

------------------------- ＮEＷ ＴＨOUＧＨＴ-------------------------

Sometimes, I look in the mirror, and simply hate myself. Hate my reflection, my appearance, but everything inside me doesn't show in the mirror, like the way it reflects in my actions. To someone simply basing me off of appearances, they'd see my curly, flowing Golden Platinum blonde hair. They'd notice the way my eyes round almond eyes, with my true blue eyes, hollow looking and pale. My skin was smooth and a fair shade. My lips were soft and kissable. They'd assume I was a beautiful californian girl that everyone loves.

But someone that knew the real me--Someone that had seen the darkest sides of me, gotten under my appearances and seen the real me... they would beg to differ. They'd call me heartless, purely heartless.

Not play-girl heartless, but the kind of heartless to stand by while someone suffers. But inside, that hurt to see them in pain...

I'm motherly, and love to protect the people I care about. But anything to hurt them get a one-way-ticket to Hell.

So, in a way, I was just protective. But in another way, I was horrible.

So which one was I? Who was I?

I wasn't my mother, who enjoyed to learn, to read, and to plan, but at the same time loved an adventure, and to live simply, without anny idea of where she was going. She loved to be free to do what she wants. My father was the one to set her free, and to relieve her of her struggles. He had a gentle smile, a daring look in his eyes, and a strong will. He loved to help others, and to care for who he was fond for. He loved to make others smile, and to take some stress of her shoulders. I wasn't him either...

One day, I hope to find my somebody to love me, to wrap me in their arms despite my flaws. Despite who I was inside, despite my dark side... but who could ever love me, simply for me?

Who could throw themselves at any danger in order to rescue me? Who would spend nights thinking about me? Who would tell a million jokes, simply to make me smile?

Who would chose to love me over breathing, and use their last breath to say the three words "I love you" and truly mean it, with every piece of them burning with fondness, care, and extravagant endearment for me?

Perhaps I sound dramatic. Perhaps my thoughts and fairy-tails on love are far too out-of-this-world. Something you only see in books and movies? Perhaps I need to lower my expectations and simply love.. For love? Not for pleasure, not for satisfaction, but for love...

I ponder over the thought of love, walking to school in the harsh winds and numbing cold of late September, which was shockingly early to be this chilly. It was as if the wind was daggers, ripping at my skin underneath my clothing. The wind howled in my ears like a chorus of wolves howling at the moon.

I saw Jack propped up against a tree out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be in a "state of distress", as he called it.

I walked over to him, and rest a hand on his knee.

He looked up at me, and to my surprise, his face was tear stained, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He put his head back in his knees as if ashamed.

"Jack"

"I want to be alone" he mumbled.

"I don't want you to be alone." I told him, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

He made a kind of whimpering sound, and I cringed in sympathy.

"Jack, you can talk to me."

"He found out." He said in a high, brittle voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Zack... found out about... m-my d-d-d-d-"

"Jack..."

"I'm so sick of him..."

"Is he... is he mean to you... in the way he's mean to Harley?"

"You mean Murphy? And yeah, he is. But he's worse with me. It's like he wants to... find any way to make me miserable?" he looked up at me, and the sad, hopeless expression on his face made my heart feel hollow.

"Jack..." I repeated, not knowing what to say. I had no idea. I felt an overwhelming urge to punch Zack in the face.

"What did he do to you?" I asked.

He hesitated, "I... really don't want to talk about it..."

"O-okay..." It was hard for me to not get upset when people told me they didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to know... I wanted to help him.

"I'm sorry..."

"Hey, I'll help you up." I stood up, and lend him a hand.

He got about halfway before collapsing again. "Sorry..." He muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't apologize! It's his fault."

"N-never mind..." I picked him up, and he started to protest. He hated when I picked him up.

I felt as if the wind wasn't cutting at me. I didn't really... feel anything... I felt like I was outside of myself... 

ＣＨAＲAＣＴØＲ ＰØＶ ＳＷIＴＣＨ 

Part Three 
  🔫 ＺAＣ𝕂 : ＰAIＮ🔫   

I bet some people have never felt pain a day in their lives. Do you ever wonder what that life would be like? I say it would be no fun at all, getting whatever you want without working for it. Pain is like the calories in food. You can't just magically get rid of it, and too much of it can damage you permanently. But it's good to have at least a little bit.

Mine is the kind of pain that is constant. The kind that you tell yourself it's normal. That you can get used to it, but pain is always the same. You can't just get used to it. Someone can beat you up for seven years, and their beatings will still hurt.

Try my life. That thought is more than true for me. I get beaten all the time, and do you think that makes me want to kill myself? Do you think that turns me into a coward, or makes me weak? No, it makes me stronger.

Do you know how many nights I have cried myself to sleep. How many class periods I have spent, my mind racing through fear of when I got home. Do you know how many days I have spent, hiding from my father?

Wanna know something about muscels? When you work out, what you are doing is ripping them. You are breaking them, and it causes you to ache and cramp. But your body realizes "Hey, those ripped easily! Let's make them stronger!" and so they start to take more nutrients (it helps to go on a diet, by the way) to support those muscels. As they need to have more elastic tissue (the things in muscles, sorta like a rubber band), which takes more space, which builds up what you see on the outside. In other words, if your muscels never ripped, they'd never get stronger.

Another example is when a doctor gives you a flu shot. He is actually injecting a weakened kind of flu into your body. The immune system goes "Hey! There is these germ-y thingies that are making us sick! Eww. Let's fight it off".

After that, the immune system makes a defence to the germs that give you the flu. That way, you stay safe of the flu and stay healthy. And your body could never had done that if you had not experienced the flu (or a weakened version of it). So in a way, getting the flu is good, and it helps you immune system to get stronger.

Okay, I sound like my health teacher. Enough of that. Normally Jack is the kind of guy who will rant about something like that for two hundred hours, but I will spare you guys.

So, my story, unlike the rest, begins in a moment that isn't particularly special. It was simple, like a normal moment, nothing out of the ordinary... yet.

I sat on a stool at an ice cream shop, next to my girlfriend, Kinsley Klinton. She had light brown hair, and caramel highlights. She had pink lips, and goldish blue eyes that lit up when she smiled. She had pink lips that gently curved into a smile, exposing her teeth just slightly. Her smile was warm, friendly, and comforting.

"Zack?" She asked, her voice cheerful , "Why do you look at me that way?"

"I―what way?"

"You just... look at me as if I'm your whole world."

I wrapped her hand in mine. "You are my world."

"You always say that."

"That's because I don't want you to forget."

She laughed as I kissed her forehead.

"Zack?" She asked again, softening her voice.

"What?" I asked her, looking into her golden blue eyes.

"Do you only love me because I'm popular?" She asked, and when I hesitated, she looked at me, her eyes turning a bit sad.

"That's not what I―"

"Why do you hate me so much?!" She said, her voice growing.

"Kinsley!"

She turned around, and started walking out, "I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY!"

She was so over-reacting. What I meant was that I loved her exactly for who she was. I loved simply everything about her, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, and even the way tears streamed down her cheeks when she cried. I definitely didn't just love her because other people did. I started to follow her, ignoring all the faces now turned in our direction. I started to feel insecure, everyone staring at me like I was so weird.

"KINSLEY! WAIT!" I yelled, and grabbed her hand as she was about to walk the door.

"What?" She said, her voice so full with fake pain that for some reason anger started to build up in my chest.

"You are overreacting!" I said. "I meant that I love you for who you are and I―"

"NO YOU FRICKING DON'T, ZACK! OR ELSE YOU WOULD NOT HAVE HESITATED!" she yelled.

"I couldn't put how much I love you into words, I promise I―"

"Zack, don't waste your breath." She said, and walked out the door, leaving me alone, being stared at by now every single pair of eyes there.

"What?" I asked them rhetorically, and proceeded to storm out.

I walked home after that, making no effort to talk to Kinsley again. That kind of fight happens all the time... We didn't get along that well, and I doubted that she even cared for me the way I care about her... Ugh, I will never understand women. Never.

I walked into my house, and took a deep breath, as I saw my dad propped up against the couch with his 'friends'.

My dad was tall and muscular, even though he had once been attractive (like me), smoking had caused his face to be much more sunken and defined. Drinking had caused his face to look exhausted, and gain weight. He now had red splotches all over his face, which were much less than appealing. His eyes were small and beety. He had thick brown hair like mine, that was styled in a mullet. His beard was short and stubby, exactly like most of his friends.

"Zack!" Dad said as soon as he realized my arrival. "Get me a beer, wouldn't you."

I wanted more than anything to tell him no right then. I wanted to stand up to him. I wanted to let the words slip out.. I had to stand up for myself or he'll just walk all over me... "Okay." I said, and hated myself for it. I felt so disappointed...

I grabbed the stupid beer, and chucked it at him, hoping it'd shatter on his stupid head and kill him. It didn't. His friend Mauld caught it, whom I despised almost as much as my father.

Mauld had little hair on his head. He had large, grey eyes and a large, hooked nose. His lips were thin, and seemed to stretch from his cheekbone to cheekbone. His small head and plump body reminded me of the shape of a bell, like one of those church ones that ring in horror movies.

Mauld handed the beer to my dad, and then marched over to me. He grabbed me by the hair on my scalp, and slammed my head against the wall. "Think you're cool, boy? THINK YOU CAN MESS WITH MARCUS, CAN YOU?"

"MY DAD, MARCUS OR WHATEVER, DESERVES THE HOTTEST PIT IN HELL! HE IS THE WORST, AND I MEAN THE WORST FATHER PROBABLY IN ALL OF TIME SO STOP FREAKING STICKING UP FOR A COWARD, A CHEAT, AND A FOOL!" I outraged, trying to throw Mault off of me, but his stone hard grip didn't loosen.

"LISTEN HERE, YOUNG MAN. YOUR FATHER IS A RESPECTABLE MAN. HE HAS BEEN THROUGH PAIN YOU HAVE TURNED A BLIND EYE TO! HE LOST HIS WIFE--"

"AND I LOST MY MOTHER! DID YOU THINK EVEN FOR A SECOND THAT WATCHING HER LEAVE HADN'T BROKE MY HEART?! I WAS THERE WITH HER, HOLDING HER HAND AND TELLING HER IT WAS GOING TO BE OKAY. I WAS THERE FOR HER, AND MY DAD DIDN'T THINK ABOUT HER FOR EVEN A SECOND! HE STAYED HOME AND GOT DRUNK AND SMOKED HIS STUPID CIGARETTES AND SLEPT WITH WOMAN! HE DISRESPECTED MY MOTHER, AND HE CHEATED ON HER WHEN SHE NEEDED HIM MOST--"

"You mother was a fool."

"My mother was a strong, beautiful woman. Did you see the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, the way a room was lit up when she laughed. The way the world seemed to freeze when she was happy, even if it was just for a moment. Did you see the way tears would stream down her cheeks after being constantly bullied by my father. He wasn't there for her. I was. I the one there for her. When she lay in that hospital bed, I was the one that held her hand, I am the one that felt the light leave her eyes, felt the heat leave her body. If you do so much as dare insult that woman in my presence, I swear to the heavens above that I will make sure you don't have a voice to speak such horrible words with." I said it all, and meant every word of it. My voice when I said it was quiet, and trembling with hatred. When I said it, my whole body shakes from pure rage.

"Blame your father, but your mother died at the hands of her own selfishness, her own desire, and her own blade." He said calmly, and the moment he released me, I lounged at him.

My father's thick, muscled grip caught me by the waist, and pulled me back, kicking and screaming. Rage bubbled inside of me, like a soda pop after being shaken, exploding. My vision went blurry, my arms and legs became impossible to control. I hollered curses at him that my ex-step-mom would have definitely have given me a mouthful of soap for.

I realized that my father was taking me up to my room, just the two of us... I knew exactly where this was going... I needed him to leave me alone...

Panic began to rise inside of me. I started kicking and screaming harder.

JUST DROP ME ALREADY! I mentally roared.

He pushed me up against the bookcase so hard that several books fell out. The back of my head hit the shelf, and I howled in pain. I should not have screamed... The whole world started to get dizzy... The world was tilting. My insides felt like they were doing a belly flop. I stumbled, and tried to regain my balance as a doubled over, my arms pressed to my chest, and vomited.

------------------------- ＮEＷ ＴＨOUＧＨＴ-------------------------

I was in a moment I had been through so many times before... I was around the age of nine, my vision was blurry with tears, and I felt as if I was underwater. My stomach felt as if there was a gaping hole in it; empty, and anxious.

"Mom..." It was Imogen, my mother. She had curly blonde hair, the color of honey. She had purple eyes were greenish amber. She was tall, and I hardly ever saw her without a smile. She was truly an amazing woman, always doing whatever she could to help the people around her. She was strong, pungent, determined, charismatic, and caring.

But after I turned eight, my father began to take advantage of her, and I often saw him beating her, or bossing her around. And it hurt, it ripped viciously at my heart to see her in pain...

But now, she was laying in a hospital bed, all types of tubes hooked up to her, keeping her still with me. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, and squeezed her hand with my small one.

She looked up at me, her eyes swimming with care, with love for me, love I would never understand. "Zack, if anything happens to me..."

"Nothing is going to happen," I interrupted desperately. "You're gonna be okay."

She smiled warmly, "That's what I always loved about you. You have always been so caring about your loved ones, and if something happens to me, I want you to know that you are so amazing. Your smile lights up everyone's lives around you. You are so loving, and open your heart to all that are around you.

"You are so creative", she continued. "My wish for you is that you will work for the bright future you deserve. I hope you find love, real, true love. I hope you find someone you want to grow old with.

"I hope that if troubles cause you're way, that you won't end them, but you will embrace them; that you will plow through them and I hope only the best for you; seek out your destiny..."

"I-I will..." I said in a tearful, weak voice, squeezing her hand tighter.

"A-and tell your brother," Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Tell your brother that I love him, a-and that he is so sensitive and compassionate. He's so bold and brave. Without a doubt, he will find an extraordinary future, and soar beyond his peers. I hope for him to rise up and be who he as always want to be, and follow his dreams. I want him try everything that he wants to, even for a moment, because life is too short to reply the same story every day, promise you'll tell him..."

"I will." I promised. "Everything will be okay..."

"Zack, I love you so, so much. Never end your life, okay? Never. You have so much to live for. Life soars past you, so don't dwell on me."

"Mom, I love you so, so much" I told her, my voice desperate and brittle. "Don't leave me! You mean so much to me. Me-Jake-Dad-you, we're a family, and the family won't be complete without you..."

"Honey, Honey I'll always be with you..."

"Not the way I want you to be! I want to hold your hand, and I want to wrap my arms around you and I want to give you bedtime kisses. I want to tell you stories, and I want to hear your tales... I don't want to lose you, mom! I don't want to lose you..." I sobbed as my mom gave me a gentle squeeze.

She pressed a ring into my hand. It was golden, and seemed to shine. Shine, like my mom's eyes. Shine, like my brother's smile. Engraved, there were some designs, and they bend into beautiful lines, curvy and loops, like flower petals. The ring was too large for my finger, built for me to grow into over time.

"This way, I'll always be with you... Wear the ring, and

"Zack, this is important, I gave a silver one to your brother, and the gold one is yours. I'll be with you, whenever you need me, as long as you wish to still remember me." She pressed it into my palm, and she gave me a pained smile, but comforting, as I blinked the tears away and managed a small smile. In that moment, she closed her eyes, and I felt her leave her body...

💬 EＮＤ OＦ ＣＨAＰＴEＲ OＮE 💨

OKAY GUYS! That was the first chapter, and don't forget that you can read the "extras" here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/80342907-the-son-of-solangelo-this-is-bonus-stuff  Even though it was written first, it's not the actual story because I didn't like it. It can just be an "if this happened"... I guess...

Follow me on Google Plus (where I do most of my stuff): https://plus.google.com/u/0/+PowermadPumpkinAKANicodiAngelo/posts

Follow me on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/willsolacethedankengine

Also, shoutout to Tailbonefangirl who created the character Melody Jackson (Jack's best friend), and Melody is also based off of the personality of Tailbone as well. She's actually my sister in real life, right, Waddie Cakes?? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sorry for the long wait and crap. I just get so unhappy with my writing so I write it over and over again until I like it. Which takes a while. 

Suggestions, Advise, Votes, Comments, Feedback, etc. Are very appreciated! I'd love to communicate with y'all! I'm going to be asking a question at the end of each chapter about either you guys, your predictions on the stories, or maybe your opinions on everything in and out of the book. Because I'm a lonely soul. 

And you guys can expect lil' after-things here that MIGHT be teasing you about the angst and PLOT TWISTS in my book that I'm excited to BREAK YOUR HEARTS over!!! MWAHAHA! They might also include my life (Maybe), and getting to know you guys, as mentioned in the previous paragraph.

Luv ya guyz! I'll let you read on now ;)