consign to oblivion

All I have

Keith was just 8 years old holding his father’s hand as he walked down the narrow aisle towards his late grandmother’s casket. At such an age he didn’t understand death so much, he knew he had no reason to worry. As far as his little, naive mind was concerned he had the whole rest of his life, which was a long time considering his grandmother had lived to age 82. Alzheimer’s affects 44% of people aged 75 to 84. His father had told him that his grandmother was a statistic, that people have been known to live longer. Confiding in the young boy to tell him that life just wasn’t fair this time around. Before then keith didn’t see life as an entity, as a physical thing responsible for misfortune or miracles. Something you can be angry at. His father was angry a lot. Keith felt relieved, thinking that his father was angry at life rather than him, even though he had been raised to believe differently.
He didn’t consider his father abusive when he was a child. His dad did regular dad things like make sure he went to bed, or took a shower. His father provided him a home and food. Never time though. Never any mind. His father graduated top of his class at the Garrison, a military academy and base. Needless to say his father was strict, and with that Keith was held to sometimes unreasonable expectations in the hope, no, more like he was being forced to one day attend and follow in his father’s, grandfather’s, and great grandmother’s footsteps. He wasn’t exactly against it either, not like he would be allowed to look for anything else, that and he had been homeschooled his whole life. The only other role model he had in his life was his uncle Takashi, though at only a few years older than him he was more of a brother.
Shiro was almost always around, at least more than his dad was. He also graduated from the Garrison but a few months after that took a “vacation” his father said. Keith knew better though, he knew Shiro more than anyone, enough to know that shiro was the most dedicated to his position in the garrison, no doubt they stationed him somewhere far away. No doubt he probably wouldn’t be coming back. At least not alive. He was a skilled fighter, and as much as keith wanted to believe in him, nobody ever comes back from an overseas mission. So with a heartfelt goodbye, and with parting gift of some gloves, he left and wasn’t seen after that. Keith was 12.
    Eventually his father was going out more and more and was home less and less. At first this used to bother Keith, what with being left alone in pretty much the middle of nowhere, and with nothing to do. But then his father would come home drunk out of his mind, he mostly just yelled, hurtful things. Like how his mother walked out on them. That it was somehow Keith’s fault. That she never loved him. Those nights weren’t as hard as the nights that his father would come home and get into fights with Keith. His prepubescent body was no match for a grown man but he tried his hardest to hold his own against his father. Eventually he started to prefer his dad being gone for often days at a time.
    Keith himself thought about running away, about finding Shiro and just leaving this place. As the months passed however, and still without a solid plan, no money, and no direction to go, he kind of gave up. For a little while he invested his time to alternate ways of getting away from everything, even thought about suicide a few times. However he didn’t want to die, don’t think he actually wanted to get away from his dad truly either. Deep down he believed that things would get better, when he was old enough to enroll in the garrison and start making his father proud of him. Until then at least he could suffer a couple bruises, he really didn’t know any better.  
Just as fate would have it, his father stumbled in disoriented and visibly disheveled. “ Damn bartender fucking cut me off. I only had 3 drinks, I barely even started.” he untucked his shirt and threw himself onto the nearby chair. As per usual Keith walked himself to the kitchen to pour his father something from the stash of alcohol they kept at home, whiskey, his dad’s personal favorite. His father took the glass and swished it in his hand before looking into the glass. He then turned his attention to Keith. “What, no ice?” he slurred.
“We’re out.” keith said plainly as he started to take his leave back to his room.
“Boy get your ass over here while i’m talking to you.” he hissed making keith wince. Keith obeyed and stood in the center of the room already prepared for an argument. His father stood up and walked to the table to place his cup down, then started towards keith. Keith took a step back feeling small next to his father. “You just been lazing all day?” keith hesitated.
“No.” he said finally, and truthfully, he spent the day cleaning the house from top to bottom.
“You will address me correctly in my household, son.” he said louder.
“No, sir.” Keith replied like a subordinate, silently hoping that he would be dismissed and could just go to bed. He should have known better though.
“Don’t lie to me boy. Not a damn thing has been done. I come home from a hard day at work and this is the thanks i get? The job I have to pay for your freeloading needs?” Keith wasn’t the type to keep his mouth shut, it had always gotten him in trouble, this was no exception.
“More like the job you have to fuel your alcoholism, your breath reeks of booze.” He didn’t regret it either, even as his father’s hand came at him fast and hard. He had barely enough time to block his attack with his arm. It still hurt, but not as much as it would his face. Reacting quickly his father caught his wrist, pulling it away from him and served a punch straight to his jaw. Keith stumbled back a bit from the impact, only to charge forward again getting at hit in his father’s gut. Just as keith turned to make his escape his dad grabbed him by the loop of his pants placing him in a chokehold. Struggling for breath and quickly turning blue he panicked flailing his limbs trying to wiggle his way out of his arms. Just as he was sure he was going to go unconscious his father stopped letting keith go as he doubled over. Keith fell to the ground gasping for air, making his way to a sitting position. That’s when his dad threw up, and it got all over him, drenching his clothes and the surrounding carpet in a putrid yellow liquid. His father made his way back to the couch laying down as keith practically sprinted to the bathroom in a hurry to clean himself before he too threw up.
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