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Addiction

"Tord, are you hungry?" Patryck interrupted. Paul gave him the harshest look, but Patryck ignored it.

"A...a little?" Tord said, confused. It wasn't like Patryck to just stop a conversation.

"Here, come help me make breakfast," Patryck stood up and held out his hand. Tord looked at Paul, and then to Patryck. He nodded. Paul gave Tord a confused look, but ushered him to follow his father. Tord stood and took Patryck's hand while Patryck went to the kitchen. Patryck closed the kitchen door behind Tord; Tord gave his father an odd look.

"What is wrong, dad?" Tord asked as Patryck sat down at the table. He put his head in his hands.

"Why did you never tell us?" Patryck mumbled. Tord sat down next to him and thought about what Paul would think. Patryck was always for talking like a family, but now that he wanted to talk alone, something wasn't right, and guilt started to well up inside of Tord. He was almost certain that this was all his fault.

"I...I just could not. I never knew how you were going to respond or if you would have been upset with me," Tord said. Patryck looked at him with worried eyes.

"Tord, of course we'd be upset! We'd want to know what was going on with you, you shouldn't have to go through those kind of things alone, Tord. You're just a kid!" Patryck blurted. Tord winced back slightly.

"I am sorry," Tord murmured. His father shook his head.

"I just wish you would've told us so that we could have fixed this," Patryck rubbed his eye. "How long, Tord?"

"How long what?" Tord asked. He felt his heart drop.

"How long have you been hurting yourself," Patryck didn't look up. Tord tensed up slightly.

"A...a few years," he said with guilt. He watched as Patryck tensed up.

"A few years?" Patryck's head shot up and he looked at Tord with a despondent expression. Tord winced back again.

"Are you kidding me, Tord? A few years? You could've told at least me! You know that I love you, why do you distrust me?" Patryck's accent started to show through and his English started to falter. Patryck was almost perfect in English, and to see that Tord was stressing him out so much to the point that it was breaking, that tore Tord apart.

"Dad, I am so sorry, I did not mean for you to think that—"

"No, Tord, stop! It's not normal for a kid to do these kind of things and you do them? Where did you even get the idea to do this?" Patryck manically said. He gestured to Tord's legs and then looked away, sighing annoyed.

"I...it just felt right," Tord said. Patryck growled.

"It is not right! No boys your age should be doing this. You should be happy and playing outside and being rebellious!" Patryck shook his head, his cropped hair moving with the movement. Patryck sat up straighter.