Losers// m.c.

1.2

"Dad?" I said feeling tears gather in my eyes.

"Hey Michael." He said standing up. "Come here." He reached his arms out.

I ran up to him and hugged him. I felt tears run down my face. I pulled away and looked at him. "I missed you."

He placed his hands on my face wiping the tears from my eyes. "I missed you too, buddy." He said smiling.

"When did you get here?" I ask sitting down across from my parents.

"Last night." He said.

"Why don't you two go out and spend some time together. I'll get dinner ready." My mom said standing up.

My dad looked at me and stood up. "Come on Michael." He said as if I was still ten years old.

I smiled standing up. He put his arm around my shoulders and smiled back at me. "Father son bonding like old times."
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"How old are you turning again?" My dad asked.

"19." I said looking at him.

"I've been gone that long. I remember you being 13-"

"That's cause you and mom divorced six years ago." I sighed looking out the window.

"I know that was hard on you, Michael. I'm sorry it had to be like that." My dad said sympathetically.

"It's been harder than you think dad."

"How is it harder?" He asked.

I bite my lip not wanting to tell him about Jake. I sighed closing my eyes. "I lost most of my friends because I became depressed, mom married someone who beat me everyday, and I get bullied at school because I don't have the live everyone else seems to have."

"Wait, your mother married someone who beat you?" He said concerned.

I nodded. "He's gone now. Mom won't let him stay in the house anymore."

"What the fuck did he do to you anyways?"

"Nothing." I lied.

"Michael, you're a terrible liar. Tell me what he did."

"He bruised my side, cracked one of my rids, have me a black eye, the list could go on forever dad."

My dad looked at my hand that still had the light blue cast on it. "Let me guess he did that too."

I shook my head. "I did that to myself."

"How?" He asked getting annoyed with the topic we were on.

I rolled my eyes. "Slammed my hand on the counter in the kitchen."

He shook his head. "Why don't we change the topic?"

I nodded. "Tell me about you. I mean you haven't called me in what six years. Haven't gotten anything from you in six years. Maybe you could tell me about you." I say with a hurt tone to my voice.

"I got married to a wife who only lasted about nine months. I dated someone I met at the local bar for awhile but we didn't work out very well."

"So, basically instead of calling or trying to contact your son you haven't seen in years, you go out to the bar and try and get some sluts or hookers while they're still sober and fully clothed."

My dad looked at me with a shocked look. "Michael, I called but your mother wouldn't let me talk to you!"

I shook my head. "Dad, whenever that fucking phone rang I would run up to it to see if it was you. It never was and even though mom took you out of called log book on the phone I still knew the number."

"I called." He repeated.

"Bull shit." I say looking out the window. "Can we just go home? I really don't want to be out here anymore. All I want to do is sit in my room and listen to music that makes me what to kill everyone and everything in my life."

"Fine." My dad said turning the around and back in the direction of my house.
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As soon as we pulled into the driveway I stepped out of the car and walked up to the house.

"Michael, please." My dad begged.

"Nope." I said.

"Give me a chance." He said.

I looked at him. "Dad, that chance you had is gone. It was gone a long time ago." I sighed. "Why don't you just go back to New York, get some more hookers and sluts, and a new wife and fucking stay there."

"Please."

I shook my head. "My life is better with you not in it."

He looked at me. "You don't mean that."

I shook my head. "Dad I mean it."

Note: Well damn. That took a turn for the worst.

I'm sorry if this was terrible, I'm really tired cause I had to take care of seven year old cousin (which was torture) but I'm sorry if it sucks.

Hope you enjoyed anyways.

All the love- H