"When you have to go through EVERYTHING, to get that EVERYTHING."
It's so hard to be someone when you're confused about who or what you're. Tarun is never 'Who' he thought he would be. He has a secret which he is claimed of hiding from everyone. Nei...
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I just couldn't stop him. I just didn't say anything. Also, I deserved that slap. The thing I was scared of, it is the only thing happened. I hurt him. And I ruined everything. I should've told him early on. It was better to break the promises I did to his mom. And I should've shown him the bike.
I should have. I should have. I should have. But I didn't. I'm an asshole for hurting him. And while doing it, I realized I'm the one who is feeling hurt the most. Because I think, I might have just lost him.
This thought brings me to where I'm standing right now. I don't want to be here. I want to go to my boy. I should've run for him before he left with Mr Moore. If Tarun doesn't have to do anything with me anymore, I'll be devastated. But I think It will be better for him to stay away from a liar like me. If I go to him now, he wouldn't talk to me. Maybe he will? Whenever he actually wants to. So here I'm standing in front of the police station to meet the bastard of a Dad.
I've got five minutes with him. And it is more than enough because it will be the last time I'm seeing him. They stick a card to my shirt, written "For visit." on it.
One of the officers beckons me to follow him to a private room where people might come to meet their family member who is here due to their bloody deeds.
The officer opens the door and my father is already sitting on the chair. God. I want to go and puke. The smell here isn't any good. The room has dark blue walls the same as we see in movies. There is a dim tube light blicking. And no windows. I enter the room as dad's faces up to look at me. I hate the look on his father. I hate this person. The person who he has become. He's not my father he used to be. He is a bastard who do drugs and kills people. I stalk and sit in front of him on the provided wooden chair. The officer locks the door but stays inside the room with us.
"Five minutes." He says. And I give him a nervous nod.
When I look at dad again, I realize how old he already looks. He doesn't do drugs anymore, of course, how will he. He is a prisoner. His eyes are shady. His lips are dry. His skin is doodled. And it's just months he had passed here. What about the whole life. He fucking deserves this. He looks at me up and down. My legs to reaching up to my face.
"Son." He says as his lips twists in a small smile. "It's so good to see you. Why didn't you visit more?" I hate when he says me his 'son'. I'm nothing like him. I'm not his son anymore.
"Because I didn't want to." My voice becomes a little harsh and vocally.
"I'm sorry for what I did." He says hoarsely.
A frustrated laugh shoots me. "That doesn't change anything. Mom will always be a killer's wife. I'll always be a bastard's son. Those two people who you killed won't be coming back. You killed them because they weren't giving you the car? That's shit. You destroyed the family's life. A wife lost his husband. A small boy lost his father. A person lost his wife and best friend. You destroyed the boy..." I breathe because I'm losing my control. I just want to smack him against the wall and hit him. I want to hit my father for destroying so many people lives.
