“There’s no fixin’ what you are, and we both know it,” my father said.

He placed his hands on his hips, staring down into my eyes as if daring me to try something. I had to admit I was tempted to follow through on my fantasy. The images were living creatures in my mind begging to be set free.

I smirked at my father and let my mask drop for a moment. I wanted him to see his death in my eyes. It may not be today or tomorrow, but it would happen, and I wanted him never to have a peaceful moment again until then.

“Just remember, it wasn’t God that made me. You did.” Smiling, I hopped off the wagon and walked to the tractor.”

I looked back at my father, who seemed shell-shocked. His mouth was still hanging open, and his eyes were wide. Maybe he hadn’t known for sure what I was, but he did now. The pathetic look in his eyes made my day out here all worth it.

Putting my good old country boy mask back in place, I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. When he returned the gesture, I revved the engine and put the tractor in gear.

We didn’t speak the rest of the time out in the field as we worked, but every time I looked at his face, I was more certain that he needed to die soon. There was no way I was letting him send me to a stupid psychiatrist again, and I definitely wasn’t getting locked up. No one in a white coat was getting near me.

While I drove along the rows of hay, the seconds turned into minutes. As they ticked by, my skin felt like it was on fire as the simmer of anger turned into rage, and it prickled at my skin, urging me to kill. I took a few deep breaths to try and rein in the all-consuming urges that made me want to spill my father’s blood. I needed to be smart about this, and shoving him under a moving tractor tire was an entertaining idea, but it wasn’t smart.

Four hours later, I’d managed to pull myself together and once more seemed perfectly calm as I drove the tractor into the shade of the old barnyard.

“We should get the market pigs separated and ready for the truck tomorrow morning. The driver said he’d be here early,” my father said as I shut the tractor down. All I wanted was a cold shower and a sandwich, and the idea of dealing with the fucking pigs was not on my list.

“Are you serious? We’ve been out here all day.”