Fatherless (Not complete)

Fatherless

People often ask me hey, do you miss your father? And the short answer is yes,

Yes I do.

But in reality I don't think I do, I mean not in the same way people often miss someone.

But I think I miss him, I think, at least.

I mean missing someone means that you have a memory of that person that you no longer know of, but when it comes to my father I really don't have any memories of him. Yeah I know how nice he was, I know he was tall, I have videos of him, I know what his voice sounded like, and I know how he was because everyone told me about it.

But I don't remember him, I only know how his voice sounded saying just a couple of words. I don't know how he would say xylophone, and I don't know if he had the same accent as me, or why his favorite color may be purple, or green, or blue. I don't know how he would have reacted if I told him I failed a class...I don't know him.

So I guess, when people ask me 'do you miss your father?' the answer is no, I don't miss him, I don't remember who he was.

But I guess I miss the fact that I don't miss him? I miss that I don't remember any of the videos I see of him and me. I miss that I don't... I don't remember how he used to give me piggy back rides while we were walking in the snow, because I got tired of walking. I guess I just miss the fact that I don't remember how hugging him feels.

But that's a lot to say, so I just say 'yeah I miss him'

Even if I don't have any memories of him.

It has been ten years.

I haven't remembered him for a long time.

He had seemed happy, so why did he... why did he do it.

All I know about my family is that my father cries, all the time. I once came home from school, and I saw him sitting there muttering, rocking back and forth on his heels, staring blankly at the wall, tears streaming down his face. He looked insane, like he had finally lost it. But as soon as Micael had walked in, he stopped, and hugged him, and asked him how his day was, and if the bullies had stopped -they hadn't- that truly scared him, he had thought he would lose his other dad too. He truly thought he was going to leave, and join his husband.

Time after time, he would see his father do something odd, and fear for his life that he would be alone again, that his other dad would too walk to the noose. And everytime he would try his best to make him want to stay, because if he died, Micael would too. He would have nothing to live for, nobody, he would have nobody to look after, nobody to care for, and nobody to help.

"... Micael, are you listening?" Shroud droned on.

"Micael." he said, comforting. "Are you feeling alright?"

"No, no I'm fine, it's ok, I'm just thinking. What were you talking about?" Micael smiled at Shroud, a small disconcerting smile.

"I was just talking about how 'Spiderman is quite cute, but not competition' but are you sure you're ok? I can take you back to the counselor if you need?"

"Not competition eh? What's that supposed to mean?" Micael smirked, shrugging off the suggestion, although still lost in thought, and visibly distraught. However Shroud didn't seem to notice, "Nothing. Just talking about Michelle, she's pretty cute right?" he said, flustered, and quickly glanced away.

"Ok Shroud." Micael laughed at his closeted gay friend's silly antics.

"I'M BEING SERIOUS! I THINK SHE'S REALLY HOT!" Shroud yells, and a couple of kids shuffle away. Michelle skips over, beaming. "Watch'a talking about?" she giggles, knowing very well they were talking about her. "Finley." Michael mutters. Shroud rolls his eyes. "Go fuck yourself Michelle." he deadpanned.