Lost

Ace's Story

Ace takes me to his abandoned apartment. The place smells musty and foul but I was relieved to be with him
He sits down on a old couch and gestures me to do the same. With caution, I quietly sit down next to him, in expectation of a response to the question I asked.
"My story begins..of me, when I was born. My mother died at birth so I never got a chance to meet her." he says quietly. I hear his voice quiver as he speaks. "And my father was a Alcoholic and would come home almost every night intoxicated. He...he would also abuse me verbally and physically. He would beat me With about anything he'd find"
I could see his face turn pale as he thought about it and I could see his face grow with pain. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat and continue.
"I remember waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of yelling or crashing sounds. I usually hid until he found me and blamed me for my mothers death. Beating me and yelling "You shouldn't be alive! I would rather have your mother here than you filthy, little twerp!"
I saw his face turn sour and his heart turn cold as he quietly says
"I could NEVER call him by the name "father" and nor do I ever want to."
A chill went down my spin. I've never had a pain like that. I don't think I could hate my father. But then again, my father wasn't like his. I felt secure. Safe with them. And oddly, the same feeling is appearing here, in this room with him.
I don't know what to think. How was I supposed to be feeling? The sense of anger rises up in me yet sadness and confusion was also forming inside me.
I wanted to say something. Something comforting, but no words were forming. So I let him continue.
"And so I left him. And went to my aunts house who I've never met.
When she saw me and found out what happened, she let me stay there. She was nice overall but she had a temper sometimes. But she's the one who liked that my name was Ace. She said it fit me well. "Ace's" as in the highest cards in a deck, meant good luck which she claims that I gave her all the time."
He looks down. I could see his lip trembling, and I knew whatever he was going to say, it wasn't going to be good.
"And when I was 14, she died of cancer." He says in a whisper.
My heart sank as I continued to listen to his heart wrenching story.
"I began from that day forward, I began to teach myself, self defense and techniques for when I was in a bad situation, or if I ever saw my..."Father" again."
I look down at the floor. And I thought I was strong. I don't think I'd be able to even smile if anything like that happened to me.
I rub my finger across the engraving I my dagger trying to find comfort but none was there.
I look up and see him staring at me as if he wants me to respond.
"Wow" I whisper.
He flips his frown into a goofy grin and stares at me with anticipation.
"I guess it's my turn for my story right?"