Hello, my baby

One Shot

Papa is my only family.

I ran to the kitchen as fast as I can the moment I smelled the sweet aroma surrounding the house. I opened the pot, took a spoonful amount of broth to taste, and then I turned off the stove.

Sweet!

Papa will surely praise me for this!

I prepared the table for dinner. Papa will be home early tonight, so I had to cook and clean earlier than usual. It's always like this, I need everything to be ready when he arrives or else...

He'll get mad.

And Papa's scary when he's mad.

He once hit me with the pot when he didn't liked the taste of the food. He hit me with the broomstick when the house isn't clean enough. Pour me with hot water if I forget to make him his morning coffee.

But Papa's not that bad at all! He's very gentle when he's praising me. He pats my head, lets me sleep beside him where we can hug, he even lets me play outside if I wish it!

Papa's the best Papa.

I giggled when I heard the doorbell rang. Papa's home! He hasn't come home for, I think, two days? Three? Sorry, I always lock myself up on the basement where I read books. That's why I sometimes lose track of the time.

And I really feel very confortable in the basement. I've been there for almost half of my life. When Papa gets mad, he sometimes locks me up in there. When he's having visitors over, he strictly instructs me to not come out.

That's why I feel very comfortable inside the basement. I think we're friends.

Or are we not?

I opened the door. "Welcome home, Pa!"

He planted a kiss on my forehead. "Hello, my baby." He took his shoes off. "What's for dinner?"

"Curry!" I exclaimed. "It's your favorite, Papa!"

He chuckled. "Thank you, baby."

See? He's not bad at all.

We sat down at the table to eat dinner. He talked about his day and what he did then we talked about mine. I washed the used dishes after eating while Papa showered, he was feeling dirty.

I was watching the television when he came out of the bathroom and go in the bedroom. It was Papa and Mama's bedroom, but Mama died.

Why did she die again?

"Baby, come here." Papa called me from his room. I turned off the television before going to Papa. He was wearing a white robe.

The room was dim lit. Papa was on the table next to the bed, doing something with the old gramophone. Papa really likes things to be vintage.

Papa faced me as the familiar tune of a song started to play. He got closer to pat me on the head, which i find very delightful.

Papa never kissed me. Why don't he?

♪♪ Hello, hello, hello, hello there ♪♪

Oh, it's the usual song, Papa's favorite!

"Hello, my baby. Hello, my honey." He sang along while unbuttoning my pajama shirt. Papa has a mesmerizing voice, very pleasant to listen at. "Hello. my ragtime pal."

I smiled. Papa's not mad at me. He only does this when I did a good job! Papa's praising me!

♪♪ Send me a kiss by wire ♪♪

He took off my shirt, dropping it on the floor. I flinched when he ran his cold fingers from my abdomen up to my chest.

♪♪ Baby, my heart's on fire ♪♪