With all the hatred and pain I could muster, I let the reckless words leave my mouth, "That's why mom is my favourite."

The hurt that flashes in his eyes is momentary, but I still catch it. The sadistic pleasure that writhes in my stomach at the sight disgusts me. I'm a sicko.

"So be it."

I watch regretfully as he walks out the door, and never comes back.

A/n: This is really short, but I got the idea after an argument with my dad, and I might add more at the beginning at a later time. Thanks for reading.