Although outwardly, it didn't show, as Brenden and I walked out of Gnarnia and into my bedroom, internally, I was actually quite nervous.
My Father was very much the embodiment of a Hero, from his justice-driven mindset down to the fact that he had been a cop for nearly 30 years. He had spent the majority of his life putting away criminals, and in a sense, I was the worst Criminal to ever step foot on Earth.
'Heh, it's good to see I still have one or two emotions intact,' I thought while the two of us left my room and headed toward the kitchen, where we found my Father setting up for dinner, which, by the way, was fried chicken from the grocery store, a staple in my household growing up.
It wasn't that my Father didn't know how to cook, only that his list of recipes was EXTREMELY small; we could basically tell what day of the week it was depending on what meal was for dinner.
