Sixteen

As Drake Blunt lifted his head, he immediately wished he hadn't changed his position. As an instant response, his hands gripped the sides of his chair, his eyes blinked with fright as he read through the bold letters on his screen.

'DRAKE BLUNT: THE SON THAT MURDERED HIS MOTHER.'

His calmness was thrown out of the window, and Drake got up as he began to find it hard to breathe all of a sudden. The topic about his mother was one he didn't like to revisit. But clearly, someone was using that topic against him and it was being used knowingly.

Images flashed through his head as his eyes strained further at the screen and he was taken back ten years when his mother died in a way he didn't wish to remember at all.

"Okay," he said through his thick breathing. "Drake calm down. It wasn't your fault. You are not at fault," he admonished himself as he took receding steps towards the chair he just got up from.

"It was never your fault," he said again, this time, his voice was a whisper.

Bu