Our First, Best, and Last Moments

//The Broken Deal\\

Josh's POV

My mom immediately left the room. She refused to be in the same room as him, understandably. My dad is awkwardly standing in the doorway, and Tyler is still sitting on my bed.

After a moment of everyone trying to comprehend what's happening, Tyler stands up.

"I'm sorry, I'll leave you two alone."

Tyler walks out of the room and shuts the door behind him. I look at my dad, and don't know how to feel. I've dreamed about my dad coming back home the moment he left, but now that it's actually happening, now that he's standing right here in the same room as me, it's all just a terrible nightmare in which I fail to awake from.

He grabs one of the extra chairs in the room and pulls it up to my bed. He sits down, and we just sit and look at each other for way too long.

Fed up with his presence already, I put an end to the awkward silence.

"Why are you even here?"
"I guess the hospital still has my phone number from when you were born. So, when they called, I decided to come see you."
"But for some reason you never thought to 'come see me' before any of this happened?"
". . ."

"Not even a phone call!? I went 13 whole years without hearing a word from you, then you just decide to show up out of nowhere?"
"I'm sorry . ."
"Why did you leave in the first place?"

He hesitates to answer.

"Your mother and I have different views on . . some things, so I didn't think it would work out."

It was in this moment, in this very response, that everything fell into place. It all finally made sense. The early memories of my father trying to . . change me. An image found its way into my mind, refreshing my memory of the time when I was two and had wanted a Barbie so desperately. My father automatically declined, then dragged me into the sports aisle of the store and bought me a baseball and a bat. I also remember my parents' huge arguments, ending with my father storming out of the house and my mom constantly reminding me to always be myself no matter what people say.

"Oh," is all I can manage to say.

"So, who's the kid?"
"That's Tyler, my boyfriend," I say, knowing it will anger him.
"What?"

I say nothing, as I have nothing to say.

"I thought I set you straight. It's okay. You know what? We'll get you help. Professional help. This . . unholy decision doesn't have to haunt you the rest of your life."

At this point, I'm completely and utterly livid.

"UNHOLY DECISION!?"
"Fine. Then you have to pick. It's either me or that fag."

Hearing that word again reminds me of the notes Tyler received at school. Suddenly my mood shifts from angry to sad.

"Do me a favor. Tell Tyler and my mom to come back in here on your way out."

He stands up and shoves the chair out of his way.

"YOU ARE NOT MY SON. HAVE FUN BURNING IN HELL."

He throws the door open and stomps out. Tears flood my vision as I hear him make his way down the hall.

"Why am I crying? That man means nothing to me. So, why am I so upset about what he said? I don't care what he thinks of me."
"Yes you do," the shadow man crowds my thoughts.

I look over and jump at the sight of him right next to my bed. I tell myself that I won't black out this time. That he has no control over me, but somehow deep down I know that's not true. I focus on the figure, trying to pinpoint certain details of his structure.