Streams of Consciousness

Filicide

        "How would you like to go to a ball game? Just you and your pop? Some good ol' father and son time? Some great and wonderful bonding time?" he asked me. I looked at him with bewilderment. I looked at him with puzzlement. I looked at him with disgust, hatred, and with all the possible unlikable emotions you would associate with a person.

        "Why do you care, you old fogey?" I scoffed.

        "Can't I want to spend time with my son?" he asked.

        "Again. Why. Do. You. Care?"

        "Why shouldn't I? I am your father."

        "Yeah, okay. Some father you are."

        "What is that supposed to mean?"

        "Don't get me started. I'll get all worked up, and go on a long spiel, and you won't care anyway."

        "Come on. Tell me."

        "No. If I go with you, will you stop bugging me?" I asked.

        "Sure. Tomorrow, we go. I got two tickets to the New York Yankees game. Best seats in the house, or so I'm told," he said with a smile.

        "Oh wow. Rich and famous get the best seats. How impressive. Is it wheelchair accessible?" I asked, rolling my eyes. He just wheeled away. I went back to my phone.

        <Sorry I took so long. My dad wanted to talk.>

        <What did he want?>

        <Something about a baseball game. Trying to make up for lost time or something like that. Before he dies I guess.>

        <Oh boy. Some real Cat in the Cradle stuff huh? Do you want me to go with you?>

        <I wish. He only bought two tickets though. Maybe I can steal his ticket and just go with you. Do you even like baseball?>

        <No, but I wouldn't mind spending time with you.>

        <Me too, I wish you didn't live too far away. I hate that he made me move all the way back home from boarding school. Just because he is dying doesn't mean he has to kill my social life or my relationship.>

        <I still love you even while you are so far away.>

        <I love you too.>

        <You should still go with him. Give him a shot. I know you secretly want to go.>

        <I will since you say so.> I put my phone back in my pocket. She was right. She was usually right. As much as I hated it, as much as I wanted to say it wasn't so, a small part of me wanted to forgive him. I never really saw him. He never acknowledged me. I let him do his own thing, and he let me do my own. I got an allowance, and a good education, so I didn't care.

        That didn't change what he does to my mom. That didn't mean I couldn't see the excess makeup. That didn't reverse the late night tears. That didn't express the true nature of our home. What it did do was make me hate him. What it did do was make me want to stay away from home. What it did do was make me wish I was born in a different family. What it did do was change my world.

        The life as the son of a famous and rich person isn't easy. How could that be? You get everything you could ever want! True, but you also have to fit the image of your parents. Why don't you have any world changing inventions? Why are you a troublemaker? Your father is such a great guy! You struggle in science class? Your father was a science ace! I hate it so much.