Publish Or Perish

@creator_by_heart | Prompt 1 • Jul '18

Father Figure 

by creator_by_heart  [published on 13-07-2018, word count: 2764]  

"How inhumane!" I exclaimed with boiling temper, as I zipped open the bag and took out the notepad along with an audio recorder.

"Indeed, sir. The man did not hestitate to bury his only child, his daughter. He won't confess with the media. And sir, I suggest handing the bag in my custody."

I handed the bag as he was suggesting, "Just because he wanted a son?" I asked, quite surprised myself.

"It is shameful, but true," he said, possessing the bag. "And do not apply pressure on him because he did not speak to other reporters friendly."

"It will be quick and nice, I assure you. Besides in the mankind's darkest days the last thing you want to do will be losing a job. What is to be done with the man?"

"Execution. Left among the crowd outside in the zone at 11:35 a.m, I believe."

The crowd, right. Awful way to execute.

He opened the vault, my vision ushered me in towards a man.

At the other end of that long vault, the person was sitting clutching his legs close to his body, sound of humming scratched the air. It wasn't a song though.

"You are, Wilson Pond?" I asked, scratching my leg with pen through my jeans.

No response.

"Sir, I assume my presence is no longer needed here." Officer's altered tone of voice urged me that it was not going to be a pleasant meeting.

"Yes, please. Whatever suits you," I forced a smile.

"Inform me when you are done. I will be outside."

Vault's door shut close.

I steered back to the man.

He was full-on vibrating mode, but I hoped not on silent . . .

I sat next to him, "Okay, I will write later and record later, journalism and stuff" I kept my notepad and the recorder aside. "First things first, just satisfy my urge to thrilling information access, why did you do it?"

He didn't respond.

"Just because the child that you wanted was a boy? Or something else. If yes, tell me . . . you're secret will be kept safe with me."

I tried to make it look convincing by coming straight to the point.

Silence followed for a tick-moment.

"I will not tell anyone, not a soul. I would scribble in the paper, a . . . a self made fiction story. Because I am curious just for knowing what happened. I am not even recording, feel free to express whatever you have."

I heard a sound. My guess, it was him swallowing hard. I was trying to convince myself that there must be a reason for killing her newborn daughter, I wanted to believe that there was a reason behind the vicious act. Just don't ask why.

He lifted his face, and . . . my god, a drop trickled down a line after another one down his cheeks, dark moisture resided around his eyes like he already hadn't had pearls of sweat all around his face. He was crying all along. I pitied him. At least at the moment. People don't born to become evil, surroundings make them.

I saw his face, that red, guilty, a father's face.

I didn't know what to do.

"Okay, just tell me why you did this? Not that the outer rotten world is the least of mankind's problem, then why kill our own kind?"