Because of Him

Behind the Facade

Dominic

I have finally gotten away. And have John off my back. I have convinced him to let me take some time off before taking over the company. He wasn't too happy with the decision until I told him that I would further my studies while I was away. "to better myself for the company," that's how I put it after he heard that there was no complaining on his end.

All John ever cared about was all the money he could make, the money he possessed, and the family business.

"Family business," what a load of bull sh*t, I thought. All it was was his business; it meant more to him than anything or anyone ever could. And he would never let me forget it.  Every time I had a f*ck up, he would throw it in my face. The company was his; if I kept f*cking up that, he would never give it to me. And after several whiskey glasses were thrown my way, he would take a deep breath and say, "I am doing all of this for you, son; get your sh*t together so you can take over the business. So that I can pass down all of my hard work."

Son, whenever he said that to me, I felt like pounding his face into the pavement. Son... We haven't been a family for years. He just liked using me to keep face in front of his competitors and investor buddies.

Whenever we had to attend banquets or some event, he had to give some sort of fake ass speech. He never failed to say his favorite lie. John was very good at putting on a show; in fact, nothing made him happier. He would raise his glass, which was filled with some hard liquor, and flash a smile towards me while he said his favorite lie.

"I am doing it all for my son, Dominic, my family."

And every single time, without fail, the audience would eat it up if only they knew he was a lying bastard.

I started to think about the last time I remembered us being a family when my mother was still here. It was before she miscarried my little sister before my mother started drinking more than she was breathing. Before John's business started going through a rough patch, It was way before my mother and brother had to leave.

For years, I had endured his bullsh*t and abuse. Sometimes, it was physical, primarily verbal, and because I was a child, it was also financial. The only way I knew how to cope was to put my head in my books and to think of the future. The day I could take over the company and somehow ruin his life in the most public way possible, and when I would finally be reunited with my brother and mother.

I started searching for them four years ago. At first, I was scared and did not have the connections, but once I did, I paid top dollar with the money I made from a secret tech start-up I hid from my father. I could not figure out how to get away from my father without him having his head up my ass somehow. Knowing they were alive and well motivated me to try harder to gain his trust so that his men would no longer keep tabs on what I was doing.

Four years later, here I am. I am still carrying the photo the private investigator took of my brother and my mother when I had them first investigated. It was so weird how my brother and I looked alike even after all these years. If you paid close enough attention, the only difference between us is that my hair was a couple of shades darker, and I had a mole under my left eye instead of my right.  And the fact that he was happier.

They looked so happy and free; I was proud that they were living a freeing life away from John. But some part of me was angry that they were so happy without me. That feeling made me feel selfish, and it made me feel like I was becoming more and more like John.

I closed my eyes briefly before realizing my plane was about to board. As they called first class, I removed my ticket from my bag. I walked up to the airline employee, scanned my ticket, and made my way to my seat. I was starting to get nervous. I dragged both of my hands down my face.

I looked out the window where I could see people loading their luggage onto the plane and asked myself: Was this the best idea? I pulled out the photo from my wallet to look at my brother and mother, that I hadn't seen or heard from in over ten years. I flipped the image over to look at their address. I stared at numbers and letters just long enough that my eyes became heavily unfocused.

I started to zone out and think about the last time we all were happy. The memory was barely there. I started questioning whether it was an actual memory instead of a dream that I made up to keep me sane. I just hoped that everything would start to be okay when I saw them.

"Greenville, Maine, here I come," I huffed before closing my eyes and awaiting take off.

But little did I know I was in for a hell of a ride.