Like Father, Like Son

I felt my hands shake as I entered the building. My mother made me come here. She told me to come see him. I was scared. Really scared. I didn't understand why I was forced to be here. I didn't care if he was my father. I wasn't planning on seeing him ever again. Not after what he did to my mother, after what he did to me. I swallowed hard and walked to the security guard. I walked through the metal detector I had cleared my throat and wiped my sweaty palms on my hands. "Inmate number?" The woman across the glass asked rather kindly. "Uh...15439876." I replied. She had handed me the locker key and I went to put away my things. When I got to the tables he was already there, the gash on the left side of his face still clearly visible from the last time he hit my mother. The gash was courtesy of yours truly. I cleared my throat and sat down.

"Hey, Mitch. It's been a while."

WARNING: this work has content including:
Self harm
Domestic violence
Suicide

Reader discretion is advised