Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Wayne, unseen, sneered down from the head of the stairs. The old man said, "He'll be okay. Let him alone." "But he won't eat. Just lies there all the time." "Hell," the old man said. "Sixteen's a bad time. School over, waiting for the draft and all. He's in between. It's rough." Mother clasped her forearms and shook her head once slowly. about all these dangerous repressed impulses piling up with nowhere to go, like they say. You read the books." "But he's unhappy." "Are we specialists? That's the Youth Board's headache, ain't it? What do we know about adolescent trauma and like that? Now get dressed or we'll be late." Wayne watched the ritual, grinning. He listened to their purposeless noises, their blabbing and yakking as if they had something to say. How come he'd been stuck with parental images like that? One impulses. Wayne had heard about it often enough. Anyway there was no that must make the old man feel like Superman with a beerbelly. They heard Wayne slouching loosely down the stairs and looked up. "Relax," Wayne said. "You're not going anywhere tonight." "What, son?" his old man said uneasily. "Sure we are. We're going to the movies." He could feel them watching him, waiting and yet still he didn't "Okay, go," Wayne said. "If you wanta walk. I'm taking the family "Hell," Wayne said, grinning straight into the old man. "I just got my draft call." He saw the old man's Adam's apple move. "Oh, my dear boy," Mother cried out. "So gimme the keys," Wayne said. The old man handed the keys over. His "Do be careful, dear," his mother said. She ran toward him as he Wayne grinned down. "Higher I hope than a typewriter jockey." A tired fat corporal with a naked head blinked up at tall Wayne. Finally he said, "So make up your mind, bud. Think you're the only kid breaking out tonight?" The corporal's little eyes studied Wayne with malicious amusement. you're starting late. You can get a cat, not a mouse, and some babes are clever hellcats in a dark alley." "You must be a genius," Wayne said. "A corporal with no hair and still Wayne's mouth twitched. He leaned across the counter toward the while Wayne examined the weapons, broke open the revolver, twirled the Wayne felt the assured smile die on his face. Something seemed to shrink him. If he didn't watch himself he'd begin feeling like a pea among bowling balls. Contemptuously amused little eyes glittered at Wayne from a shaggy in a bug collection. "Well, well, you're really fired up aren't you? Really going out to eat 'em. Right, punk?" from Wayne's nose. He jerked up a shaky hand involuntarily and clamped A copcar stopped Wayne as he started over the bridge, out of bright Wayne waved the pass card, signed by Captain Jack, under the cop's Slumville, but Wayne felt a cold that wasn't of the night or the wind. potholes, narrow and winding and humid with wet unpleasant smells. Wayne's fearful exhilaration increased as he cruised with bated breath through the dark mazes of streets and rickety tenements crawling with shirt clinging to a pale stick body. He reminded Wayne of a slim grub a dirty, greenish tinge as he sensed Wayne there. He turned in a grotesque uncoordinated jiggling and his eyes were wide with terror and doom. "I gotta hide, kid. They're on me." Wayne's chest rose and his hands curled. The bum's fingers drew at the air like white talons. "Help me, kid." He turned with a scratchy cry and retreated before the sudden blast past Wayne and he felt the engine-hot fumes against his legs. Tires The fumble-footed rummy tried to run and plopped on wet pavement. The teener moved in, while a faint odor of burnt rubber hovered in the air Wayne's breath quickened as he watched, feeling somehow blank wonder laughed. Wayne wanted to shout. He opened his mouth, but the yell Wayne walked over and sneered down at the human garbage lying in Wayne smiled with wry superiority at the redheaded psycho in a dirty sat rigid, eyes fixed on Wayne like balls of frozen glass. Red looked up and stared straight at Wayne with eyes like black buttons Wayne returned the challenging move but felt a nervous twitch jerk at The waiter sat the Crusher down. Wayne signed a chit Wayne drank. Liquored heat dripped into his stomach. Fire tickled his air. Tension mounted as Wayne watched her pale throat convulsing, the "Okay, you creep," Wayne said. crashed. Wayne's .38 dropped from its spring-clip holster and the blast holding something in. The mouse darted by, eluded Wayne's grasp and was Wayne went out after her in a laughing frenzy of release. He felt the "You, baby," Wayne gasped. "I gotcha." her arms out and poised like crippled wings. Wayne crept up. She gave a squeaking sob, turned, ran. Wayne leaped into gloom. Wood cracked. "No use running," Wayne said. "Go loose. Give, baby. Give now." She scurried up sagging stairs. Wayne laughed and dug up after her, sagging stairway from a shattered skylight three floors up. The mouse's cracks. A rat ran past Wayne and fell into space. He burst into the Wayne took his time. He knew how she felt waiting in there, listening to his creeping, implacable footfalls. Then he yelled and slammed open the door. Dust and stench, filth so awful it made nothing of the dust. In "What's that, baby?" "I'm tired running. Kill me first. Beat me after. They won't know the difference." like him and something was wrong with his belly. It was knotting up. "Bad, I know! So get it over with, please. Hurry, hurry." He ripped off his rivet-studded belt and swung once, then groaned and shuffled away from her. He kept backing toward the door. She crawled after him, begging and clutching with both arms as she wriggled forward on her knees. "Don't run. Please. Kill me! It'll be someone else if you don't. Oh, God, I'm so tired waiting and running!" "I can't," he said, and sickness soured in his throat. "Please." "I can't, I can't!" He turned and ran blindly, half-fell down the cracking stairs. studied Wayne with abstract interest. "Yes, sir." "But you couldn't execute them?" "No, sir." "They're undesirables. Incurables. You know that, Seton?" "Yes, sir." killed her father when she was twelve. You realize there's nothing can "I—felt sorry for her." "Is that all you can say about it?" "No, sir," Wayne mumbled. He didn't look up. "I'm sorry I punked out." "Give him the treatment," the doctor said wearily. "And send him back to his mother." Wayne nodded and they led him away. His mind screamed still to split was no way out for the trapped. Now he knew about the old man and his poker-playing pals. They had all punked out. Like him.

<question>:
What does the description in the second paragraph of the article about Wayne's parents show about how Wayne feels towards them?

<options>:
A He dislikes them because he feels repressed by them.
B He has strong disdain for them because they do not approve of his aspirations.
C He fears his parents because they are aggressively against his future goals.
D He is annoyed by them because they will not let him be drafted.

<answer>:

A