Dont even dare Dy

Meat on a stick

I was saddened to hear my fathers tears and screams waking me in the night, mostly because i need my beauty sleep if i am to continue to dazzle others with my harsh and almost unbelievable mystic allure.

However something indeed awoke inside of me, something I didn't know was there; sympathy.
so I lay awake replaying every scenario where he had done something nice for me, and every scenario where i had done something worthy of his love, his money food or shelter; and i had found no examples of my gratitude towards him.

Yes it is true, I have shown myself to be ungrateful and haven't even thanked him once for letting me stay here in Florida with him and Dave, which has been the best two short weeks of my life, although the most confusing.
I want to do good by my father and I want us to have a relationship that me and my mother never would've had. because if i like it or not, he's the only person in my life who has ever cared so much as to shout when i misbehaved, or apologise for bieng in the wrong, something nobody around me has ever had to do.

The crying then got louder and louder until I couldn't ignore it anymore.

" Dad, whats wrong?" i ask quietly trying not to spook him, as perhaps he may have had a relapse or received news of a dead junkie friend.

"Its Carroll!" as he turned around the anger in his eyes became more and more present. He was furious.

"oh... kay, my mum or someone else?"
'"
" your mom carroll that, that.... Aaargh , hide your socks kid"

We are closer than ever before. The fact that he is trying to be more responsible and hide me from vile and vulgar langauge shows me that we can have a true son and father relationship, like one of a mid nineties sitcom TV show. I just wish I could free him from his distress.