So, That's Your Dad? (Freddie Mercury) | Under Construction

Chapter Thirty Three: Now I'm A Fugitive

The bed that Roger had placed me in is much more comfortable than the one that I sleep on every night. With the memory foam in the mattress shaping my every move and the pillow containing just the right amount of fabric around it. I could be in complete bliss right now. Unfortunately I am far from that. I can't think of anything to myself that will put me in a happy place. I want to forget about everything from the events prior to falling asleep in this bed. Staying in this room is the only way of reminding myself of why I am here. I want to go home. But that's no longer an option. What in the actual fuck have I gotten myself into? I can't answer that at the moment. My next series of thoughts is that tonight I have to run.

"Good morning sunshine." Roger greeted as him and his nine year old son Felix are sitting at the counter area. Roger's wife Dominique was attempting to make waffles I'm assuming. She has never been the best cook. I always dreaded staying here when I was younger because I knew that she was the one who'd have to cook. "Good morning you guys." I answer and take a seat across from Roger who is drinking a beer and reading the paper. Beer at eight o'clock in the morning? I'm not even going to bother asking. "Hey Tiffany." Felix said happily as he played with his cars along the counter. "Hey little man, hows school going?" I greet him like I normally do when I see him.

He forced to cars to crash into one another. Of course neither of them are damaged because they're not real cars. Otherwise, Roger would be very upset. He would probably run away from his problems, exactly how I have. "Good." Felix answered not even making eye contact with me. "I could ask you the same thing, Tiffany." Roger added on. I'll answer him with the truth. "It's going well. But I'm going to drop out because I'm leaving tonight." I admit. He places his can of beer outside of the coaster causing the metal and marble to clash with one another. "Roger, babe! Put the can back on the coaster!" Dominique snapped. Roger rolled his eyes.

It is very blatant that they are both not on good terms at the moment. I'm sure that Roger was sleeping on the couch last night. That's probably why he had been able to get to me so fast. "Sorry babe." He apologized and placed the can back on the cushion. "Where do you plan on running to?" He interviews. "Oregon." I answer. He giggles and looks back down at the newspaper. There's nothing no funny about that. I skim through the front page and nothing important has happened. "Sweetheart, nobody goes to Oregon." He told the truth. I knew that already. It is the whole point in me going after all.

       "I know, that is why I want to go. Nobody will recognize me, I will live in peace, no one will tell me what to do, and I'll be completely unnoticed." I reasoned. Roger took a gulp of beer. "Yes, but you would also be easier to find, and if your dad finds you alive, let me say that he'll kill you his damn self. Basically you're fucked either way." He said. He's right about that as well. Damn, I'm realizing that everyday I'm getting closer and closer to thinking alike to Joe. "Yeah Tiff you're fucked." Felix repeated after his father. I wanted to laugh. Something about little kids swearing is hilarious. Dominique eyed Roger who wanted to laugh as well. Like father like son I guess.

       "Don't say that son," he scolded and turned back to me, "Anyways Tiff, if you absolutely insist that this is what you want to do, then I'll drive you to the bus station tonight." He offers. I smile and immediately want to accept. This will work, and I'm certain that it will. I will no longer have to be here. I will be free from all of the struggles of living in Los Angelas California. I can experience life for myself. The thought of my life actually beginning makes me very happy. "That would be great thank you." I show him appreciation. After I say that to my uncle, a knock hits his front door. That knock is so distinct, but yet I recognize it. It has hit my door frequently as well. Why is it hitting Roger's door? Oh shit. I hope that it is not him.

       This is the last person I would want to see in my life. "Tiffany go get the door." Roger instructed. I rejected his request without delay. "I can't do that, I'm a missing person and it could be my dad." I panic. "Tiffany you're in my house and you still have to do shit as if you lived here. So would you please go get the door." He requested politely. He sounds similar to my father, but has a kinder approach. Which is the reason why I find Roger more likable. I make my way down the long hallway to the front door. The door was once red but painted black recently with the tinted window in an oval shape. Where we can see who is there but they can't see us.