Page:Clones - Ryan Somma.pdf/30

 found it in one of his room searches.

"One day, you'll have children too," I heard him say through the haze of pain, as I cowered against the wall, "and I hope they are as much a disappointment to you."

And it got worse.

"You're joining the Navy?" I asked.

"Already signed up," I noticed he was only packing the clothes he'd bought with his own money from the gas station.

"I'm gonna be a nuke, work in a submarine."

"Why did you do that?"

"Why do you think? To get away from you. It's the fastest way to get out on my own."

"You're not doing this," I said sternly. "This was not what I wanted for you."

"Really," he said contemptuously. "What exactly was that?"

"I want you to be better than me," I said.

"I am better than you," he said, still packing, "I'm smarter than you, stronger than you, and I am already more successful than you. I have a job, a car, a girlfriend—―"

"You have a girlfriend?"

"I have a career planned out. I am so far above you it's not even funny," he shook his head in disgust.

"I had a plan for you too," I sacrificed–"

"You planned out my life all right. It was going to be exactly like yours."

"I think I have that right," I argued. "After all the sacrifices I made. I have a say in this."

"You don't own me," he retorted.

"It cost me over half a million dollars to bring you into adulthood."

"You don‘t own me."

I raised my hand to strike him, but he stepped forward, fists tight, swelling his chest, locking eyes with me, "I dare you old man. You know damn well I could lay you out easy."

I lowered my hand.

He shook his head, the way my father used to do, and I felt that same rush of shame, "Why the hell did you create a copy of yourself if you hate yourself so much?"

I blinked, Hate myself?