Dad's Home

He opens the door
"Hey sport, how are you doing?"
His eyes shift to the left and right, then he finally gazes at his dad for a moment, then blinks and turns away. His dad doesn't get it. Why does his son appear to be so hostile to him all of the time? He's trying to be a kind father, but there isn't as much of a connection to him and his son as there was when his mother was around. 
"Listen sport, I know you don't really like our new house, but come on, I need you to lighten up a bit."
He ignores his father, not even turning his head. His dad wonders why it's so hard to get attention from his son. He wonders if he's going to grow up to be one of those emo kids who are depressed all the time. 
"Hey sport, what do you want for supper?"
His son leans to one side and shakes his head. 
"You don't want supper?"
His son nods this time. 
There's a knock on the door. His son lifts up his head, acknowledging who this might be. 
"Okay sport, let daddy take this one."
His son kicks and tries to scream, but his father has already put the tape on his mouth. His son is struggling, trying to get out of his constricting arms, he butts his head on his dad's nose, but it's no use, he's already forcing him into the closet, trying to rope him together. The father closes the closet, as his son is forced to listen to his dad's footsteps fade away as he opens the door. 
He opens the door
"Hello, I'm looking for my son."
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Micropasta