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I want to ask why you don’t love me anymore. You’ll sit me down and ask who put those ideas into my head. You wont be ready to hear the answer I’ve prepared and practiced for years. “you, daddy.” I shout out followed by sobs broken up with short, jabbed breaths. You stare back at me, blankly. Get up and walk out, I’m thinking. I don’t want you in here anymore, even though this is your room. I make myself stand. You stay sitting, staring where my eyes were. As I leave you don’t move from that spot. I don’t get to tell you everywhere you fucked up. I don’t get to explain my answer. I guess my vague answer was enough, you knew where you messed up, you knew there are things you did that you don’t remember. Instead of apologizing you acted as if you didn’t acknowledge what I said, it wouldn't be true. It was true, it still is. I somehow make my way up the stairs. Tripping over clothes and trash in the hallway I make it to the bathroom. I grab the razor blade you ever so generously provided me with. I brought pain onto myself for bringing pain onto you. I hurt you, I should have lied. “My father, my creator, never hurt me or lied, never told me he hated me, and was always there, one call away. A loyal man, a family man. My father is the best father in the world.” I repeat these words as the blood we share spills onto the floor you built me with both hands. I don’t want to be you anymore, daddy. Take this blood from my body and erase this last name from me. Sperate me from church and state, from me and you. Family is nothing between us. We are all we have. This disease is only for us, no one else has this sickness we share. I am you and you are me, father. We are one. We are us. I wish I wasn’t you, I wish I didn’t have to carry your blood in my body. Father, why are you so mean? You said you would change but how can you clean your blood? Father teach me. I want to be pure and clean, I don’t want to be sick anymore. Daddy, lets go be better, lets be father and daughter and we can dance. Father, please fix this, please love me again, father please. Daddy, please. These are the last words ill say as my father picks up my lifeless body and throws me in the back of the car. The hospital is to bright. “turn around” I want to go home. He stopps the car. “You want to die” “I don’t want to be you anymore, let me bleed, let me bleed you out, let me detach myself from you, I don’t want to be sick anymore daddy, please let me go, I’ll be okay, I want this, let me go home please I’m sick and this is the cure. Daddy I want to die please daddy I don’t want to be like you anymore” Black. All I see is memories of us through his eyes. Nothing. I see or hear nothing. I am nothing now. I am not my father anymore. I am dead. I am at peace.
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