Love, Hate, and Family Ties

The Culprit

I woke up several times during the night. Always because of Dad. Either he tried to move over and pulled me with him, or because I moved or kicked and he smacked me to make me stop. Just when I thought I was going to get to sleep the rest of the night he woke me up around three.

I open my eyes and his face is inches from mine. He is staring at me with a curious look on his face.

"Can I help you?" I ask, slowly moving myself away.

"You were having a nightmare. What about?" he asks. How unlike him to care.

"I don't remember, will you please let me sleep?" I groan, turning away from him. My left arm stays on his side of the bed.

"I was just worried. No need to get touchy." He turns over leaving his right hand in the middle of the bed.

When we actually get up in the morning, we awkwardly sit looking at each other. I have never spent so much time this close to my dad. Don't get me wrong. I love my dad. Don't think for a minute that I don't love him. And I know he loves me. He just doesnt know how to show it. It's just hard to spend quality time with him when he never wanted a family in the first place.

"We.. ah. We have to shower, I believe." he says, obviously uncomfortable.

"I really don't want to know what you're packing." I say. I try to think of a better way than showering together, but can't.

"HEY! DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! Don't you forget who I am, kid. I own you!" he says, getting much to close to my face.

I sigh and gather my clothes to take a shower.

After our disaster of a shower, I'll spare you the details, we go to the kitchen to get breakfast. Matthew is already there eating cereal.

"You survived the night!" he says with a kind smile.

Dad and I both flip him off and try to make breakfast for ourselves.

Much yelling and shoving later we are finally sitting down at the table eating.

"So, how are we gonna fix this? Any ideas?" I ask my dad.

"Ask my connections. Hunt down the culprit. Get the key. End their life. Simple." he says, nonchalantly.

"Great. Sounds good to me. Genius." I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Why, thank you, my dear." he says. He's either oblivious to my sarcasm or he's ignoring it.

Matthew puts his bowl in the sink. He turns around to look at us, smiling.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he says, excitedly.

"I hate enthusiasm." Joker says, standing up. I'm jekerd up and to the side with him. I choke a little bit on the food in my mouth.

"TEAMWORK DAD!" I yell. I trip over his chair to follow him.

He giggles "Oops."

We head over to Hollywood Boulevard. He explained that his connections were working out of offices above some of the shops on the street. I got bored of my father telling me that I'm walking slow or to stop looking around. He says I attract too much attention when I look around because I have what he likes to call 'Resting bitch face.' That's ok. It usually describes my attitude at any given point in time.

I had been texting Michael during our walk, explaining to him in excrutiating detail what has transpired and how much I hate it. He seems to think this is hilarious. I'd like to see HIM chained to the Joker. See how long HE lasts.