June 06, 2089
I stood at the top of the staircase, the familiar weight of dread settling in my stomach as I gazed down at my father. He looked older than I remembered, his face lined with shadows that seemed to deepen with each passing year. It had been months since I'd seen him, and now, here he was — unannounced. I hesitated, gripping the railing, the wood rough against my palm, grounding me in a moment when I felt anything but steady.
"Hey," I called down, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "What brings you here?"
He shifted on his feet, the way he always did when he had something heavy to say. "Can we talk? It's important."
I felt the air thicken around us, a silent plea rising in my chest. "Sure. Just give me a sec." I turned to retreat into my room, the familiar clutter of my life surrounding me — sketchbooks piled high, football gear strewn across the floor, the half-finished song lyrics taped to my wall and my roommate dozing like he's never slept. They all bore witness to the life I tried to lead, the normalcy I was supposed to embody. But inside, I was unravelling.
As I walked back, I caught a glimpse of Porshe, curled up on my bed. His eyes flickered open, and he let out a soft whimper, sensing the tension in the air. I knelt beside her, running my fingers through his fur. "It's okay, porshi. Just a family thing."
"What do you mean, 'family thing'?" my father asked, his tone sharp, slicing through my moment of solace.
I straightened, feeling the weight of my own facade. "You know, just… stuff. Me. School. Life."
"Is it just stuff, or is it more than that? Because I can see it in your eyes." He stepped closer, the worry etched on his face. "You're not okay, are you?"
A laugh escaped me, bitter and hollow. "Yeah, I'm just peachy, Dad. Top of the world." I shrugged, forcing nonchalance. "How's Mom?" At that moment, lying was the only thing I could do. I am not that brave to confront everything to him looking directly into his eyes. I can't break his trust again and again.
"Stop deflecting." His voice hardened. "This isn't about her. It's about you."
"You're here to talk about me? But I am really fine, nothing to worry bout." I said this completely without even blinking.
He lowered his gaze, the disappointment palpable. "I'm trying to understand. I'm trying to be here for you."
"Be here for me, but you have always been, right?" I was still smiling, although another word like that would have brought tears. The sounds were echoing off the walls because of no presence of someone else talking.
"Son—"
Dad talking to me like was not new but still very sudden. I somehow felt uneasy about it and was considering to hear something that could make me mad, but I started speaking before I hear it.
"I am fine here, and don't want anything right now, I don't want to increase any burden on you. Even if I tell you, it's not like you will get it."
"You think I don't know what it's like?" His voice cracked, and for a moment, I saw the weary man beneath the father facade. "I lost my father today."
The room fell silent. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of us in this suffocating moment. I blinked, the reality of his words sinking in like a stone. "What do you mean?"
He rubbed his temples, as if trying to ease the tension that had settled there. "He passed away this morning. I came to tell you that we're moving. We'll be moving to countryside; I can't stay around the city. I am even taking a big vacation from work."
"Moving?" My heart raced, panic gripping me. "You can't just leave. You can't take me away from everything I know. What am I gonna do. I know it's a tough time but we'll overcome."
"I don't have a choice." His voice was steady but filled with sorrow. "We need a fresh start, and I thought you'd understand."
"Understand?" "You think I want to leave? To start over? I can barely keep it together here, let alone in a new place."
"Don't you see?" he pressed, stepping closer. "You're struggling. I can see it. You need help, and maybe a change of scenery is what you need."
"Help?" I scoffed, bitterness flooding my voice. "Is that what you call it? Running away?"
"Maybe it's not running away. Maybe it's just trying to find a way to breathe again."
"Breathe?" I laughed, but this time it felt more like a scream. "You think moving will just magically fix everything?"
His eyes softened, but the pain was still there. "I know it's hard, but you're not alone. We can get through this together."
"Together?" I was about to break I saw Porshe, who had retreated under the bed, sensing the rising storm. "You haven't been here. Not really. You don't know what it's like to feel like you don't belong anywhere."
"I'm here now," he said firmly, his voice rising a notch. "I want to be here for you, but you have to let me in."
I sank back against the wall, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "What's the point?" I whispered, the fight leaving me. "You're just going to leave again."
"That's not fair." His voice cracked, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. "I'm trying. I'm trying to be a better father, but you're pushing me away."
"Maybe it's because I don't want to hurt anymore," I admitted, but my voice barely stayed in my mind "I don't want to feel this pain."
I stared at him, the walls I'd built around my heart starting to crack. "You were a good father and will always be, but I think my place is here more than there with you all, you guys have everyone, but I want to stay here for Porshe..."
"Absolutely," he said, his voice softening. "But you have to promise me you won't shut me out. You have to let me in. You got to pick calls and come meet every here and there.."
The silence stretched between us, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. I took a step forward, uncertain but desperate for connection. "Okay. I'll try."
His relief was palpable, a weight lifted from his shoulders. "That's all I ask. We'll figure this out together."
Just then, Porshe emerged from his hiding spot, his tail wagging tentatively as he sensed the shift in the atmosphere. I knelt down, burying my fingers in his fur, grateful for his unwavering loyalty. "Hey, brave. I guess it's time for a change before I leave, huh?"
My father chuckled lightly, the tension easing just a bit. "I assume you made friends."
"Yeah, but he can't talk. "I stood for hug that I was missing from a long long time.
As we stood there, father and son, I felt the first stirrings of something I hadn't felt in a long time — the feeling of a nostalgia. It wouldn't be easy, and the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for the first time, I didn't feel completely alone. Was this the end of my loneliness, could I start a new life, only time will tell...
To be continued....