Mind Of a Child

5.

Same day.

Sangwoo's POV.

     Another day at work so I close the door to Kinry's room. I sit on the kitchen floor and scrub the blood from the floor vigorously. Next to me is a very pretty woman. Sadly, her and I's fun is over. I didn't bother pick up her nasty clothes from my room. I should've had her throw them away herself. It's not like she'd be getting them back anyway. I held the knife in my hand incase my dumb self didn't actually kill her. Sometimes I imagine it in the moment instead of actually doing it. But the blood was on my hands and floor to prove it. I tend to hallucinate and get to far into my thoughts. This being one of those times because I hadn't realized Kinry was standing at the door watching me. "Oh shoot," I thought to myself and wiped some blood off my face before closing the door. I hope he just walks away and back up to his room. And I hope he hadn't seen anything vital.

     I try to stay as normal for Kinry as possible. I try to stay happy and say the right things that hopefully won't recall him to his past. I can admit I haven't been the best father. I lie. But it's because of Kinry. I lie for him. I've beat him. I've hid things from him. For heck's sake I used to get blood on his baby clothes. It pained me when I would leave the house for groceries and come home with the police knocking on my door. I'd go back to violence when they took him away to ease the loneliness, but that only made it harder to cover up my trail. The police haven't found anything important yet.  That when I suddenly snap back to reality and realize I haven't been scrubbing for the past five minutes. I quickly finish the job and ring the rag into a bucket of water for the last time. I throw the rag in the wash and pour the bloody water into the sink. I gently pick up the woman and carry her down to the basement, making sure not to run into Kinry. I come back up and head upstairs only to find Kinry in my room. "Hey!" I raise my voice at him slightly like I always do. I pick him up and carry him back to his own room. "What did I say about coming into daddy's room?" I ask. "You said not to. Sorry daddy," he'd always say. He always apologizes even when I don't ask him to. I wonder what he knows. Has he seen what I've seen? Have the police exposed him to who I am and what I do? What kind of father am I? What kind of father does he think I am? 

     One day I remember Kinry came into my room while I was crying. "Did daddy ruin the strawberries?" He'd ask and he wiped a drop of blood from my face. Did he know it was blood? Was he making sure I didn't find out that he knew? "Yeah, dessert will be a bit late tonight, Kinry," I'd reply. Dessert was always late.