A strict father and his son.
The wind was low, K was just killed. He was stabbed in the stomach after a fight with an enemy force. He smiled one last time as he knew his time was up. He opened his eyes to see light, he could hear children laughing in front of him was a desk. It was familiar, it was his sons.
He stood there staring at it. Then a pile of paperwork scattered around the table appeared. It was homework, activities of sorts. The first name was erased only leaving L. He walked towards the desk. He grazed his hand on the wooden table. It never changed, didn't it?
A chair appeared behind him. He sat down and took a deep breath. He whispered in the lonely air. “I'm sorry you couldn't make it to your fifteenth birthday.”he said grabbing his wallet, it was empty, torn but there was a picture of a boy. His boy.
He stared at the photo, and the photo smiled at him. A grinning photo of a twelve year old. A face he swore to protect. He promised, but he broke it. Now, he could never see that face again. In his mind, he is forever set to rot in hell for the despair and misery he caused his son to endure.
The next thing he heard was crying, crying of a woman. A familiar woman, he turned his head around. It was her, a lady he had dated years ago carrying a baby in her arms. The baby cried and cried, as if it was hungry. ”I'm sorry, please. Please protect him. Protect our son. Protect our Lu-” Replied the woman, the baby, stopped crying as it saw him. It smiled, like someone. Someone else special, the woman disappeared. And so did the baby.
“Is this hell? Getting reminded that I did this?”He thought, the table was changed to one of the table you would see at the hospital. He could hear beeping. Beeping of a heart monitor, a quivering heartbeat struck, the sound of children laughing turned into constant muttering. But still, despite everything there are still papers on the desk.
For the third time he heard raindrops falling and people weeping. He looked at his desk. The paperwork was nicely arranged on the side. But lying face center was a folder. He opened the folder for it to read, death certificate. Aligned in the paper was everything about his son. His name, age of death, cause of death.
He remembered, “ Oh, I filled this. ” he said calmly, closing the folder. Then looking in front of him. It was still emptiness, a vast dimension of light. He took a peek at the paperwork, half of it was perfect then slowly drifted to low scores then.. no answers at all. He placed them back. He could hear the cries get louder. He turned his head around.
Silhouettes of people he knew stood there, crying. Crying at something or someone, he couldn't see what it was, so he stood up from the table and walked towards them. A man's cries weeping louder and louder.. When he finally reaches. It was a coffin, he saw a silhouette of himself bawling on the floor. Looking devastated. Inside the coffin, was his son.
“ This was never my intention. No, please god! Don't take my boy away! Hes the only family I have left! PLEASE DONT TAKE MY SON AWAY! PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU!”
The silhouette yelled out.
He looked back at the desk. The papers ripped to shreds in front of him. Till it only had one. It was the exact same photo as the one in the wallet, it was his son, it showed the full photo which was him and his son at his awarding ceremony. Suddenly the medal changed to one, to three. The boy's face turned melancholic then he disappeared. Leaving behind nothing.
He sat on the floor this time. He flopped on the ground, and started to laugh like crazy. ,” This is it! God wants me to suffer! I'm getting reminded of all the bad things that happened to me! This is it! What I truly deserve! Why did I have such high ideals?! He was only twelve! ”
He lied there tears bubbling up in his eyes from the side he could hear a.. video game of some sorts. He looked again, it was his couch. On the couch, was his son's game controller..He stood up and sat on the couch, he noticed it was way softer than the chair at the desk. He looked down at the game, it was dusty like someone hadn't used it in a long time.
He wiped his tears, and took out his photo. “ It shouldn't have been like that. You should have been playing your games. Not studying all the time.. or being in the hospital.” his grip on the photo tightened as he whispered his son's name out.
“The hospital bed was cold, I kind of liked it”
He turned his head, there was no one. “ Cmon.. try and find me old man!” the voice replied again, that voice.. that voice it was him. He stood up and started running towards the voice. He heard a cycle of phrases his son said when he was younger as he ran towards it. He saw a silhouette,
“ You found me. ”
.
.
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