Random Musings

Golden Child

You were his golden child.

You were the ideal son — the child who always looked up at your parents as your world, who always got high scores on his tests, who always followed orders from elders, and the one who anyone cannot help but be a favorite.

You were the perfect son any parent would want to have.

And then it became were when it was supposed to be are.

Because despite how perfect you were as a son, no one can actually be perfect.

Because despite how much you try to give your best as your love language, you are too passionate to just be that obedient and perfect son you strive to be.

Because despite how much you try to control it, you will always be emotional.

Because despite how much you like yourself to pretend to be the golden child everyone sees you to be, you are too independent to just go and meet their expectations, as you know you are more than that.

Because how much your father wanted to pretend you were still that same bright kid he was proud to call his son, time is moving and you are growing up.

However, it never changes the fact that he chose you to be his son and loves you as one.

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, perfect time for people to catch up and talk about random stuff just to spend time with each other. It was a routine you and he had before all the disagreements and rebellions tarnished your relationship.

And yet, you are walking towards a two-storey blue house, with uncontrollable rage visible in every step you take.

It was supposed to be another argument because your once beloved father had once again sent a threat to you to change your current career path, which at worst would be a vicious exchange of harsh words that are only meant to hurt the other to make them listen. Then, he would leave, seething and sulking. Aftermath would be weeks of silent treatment until they reconnect and try to pretend nothing happened until something happened for his father to repeat the process again. At that point, it was basically routine.

But then something that waits for you inside the house makes you stop in shock. That is when you glare towards your father and see red. Because this time, it was not an argument that awaits you.

You might have been the golden child, but you know to yourself you are anything but that.

Because if you are, then you would not be in shock at this moment, seeing the crimson liquid painting your hands, just realizing the consequences of your actions that you did out of anger as you try to hold the slowly growing cold fingers of the man you loved the most as he exhales the last breaths of his life.

Your adopted father, the only person who gave you a second chance in life but would never agree with your current lifestyle, is now staring blankly at you, with only surprise and shock found in his expression as he lies on the floor.

This was not supposed to happen! I just want you to listen to me! I just want you to at least try understanding me!

But no matter how many times you excuse and rationalize what you just did, dread and guilt still keeps on digging a hole in your chest.

Until the house starts to be filled with blue and red lights and you could hear the sirens from the distance, definitely coming towards you.

You could not help but laugh bitterly, slowly realizing what kind of situation you are actually in.

You caress the cold skin of his face and even though you just wanted to cherish the last time you could see your father, you cannot help but feel like your touch is a bit mocking.

"You win, Dad," you whisper as the police slowly enter the house, doing their protocols entering the crime scenes just like how the TV shows typically depicts it. "You cannot punish me with my status as the governor so you made sure I would commit something I would really regret after so you took advantage of my temper at the cost of your life."

You chuckle as you slowly stand up to face the policemen who are now flashing lights on to you. You just shake your head as tears start running down on your face.

How funny and ironic it was that all it takes was his father's death and the impending imprisonment that awaits you to make you pause for a while and rethink all of his decisions in life ever since you left home and stopped being his golden child.

But it is not like you could change anything. Your dad is dead. You killed him out of anger. All your hard work before you became the governor would come into dust because of the murder you would never deny of. The least you could do was to face the consequences of it, because your father loved you too much to plan his own death in exchange of making sure you would leave the life of a corrupt politician and be punished for all the deceptions and lies you did since you entered politics.

Still, you cannot help but be angry. Unlike before, you can only see it as useless.

Anger is a secondary emotion, a fact you took advantage of over the years to hide what you really feel since you ran away from home after your father said out of anger that he regrets adopting you. Anger was the one that destroyed your home so you used it as your weapon for years.

Right now, you could only feel grief and regret taking over the anger you always utilize to stop yourself being vulnerable as the police handcuffed you and made you walk outside your childhood house, your former home.

You were his golden child, but it never stops you doing the same mistake your father had made years ago and regretted — to do something out of anger.