Welcome to Heaven

Hey whats a story without backstory?

I was born on a cold night in December. No one knew who my father was. My mother would not say. My family shunned her for that. It didn't help she was 21 and living in a so-so apartment as well as an art school student. Her mom and dad said art was not a stable career. Even if my mother was amazing.My father was according to my mother present for my birth. According to everyone else he was not. She was simply delusional from giving birth to me. Apparently she was talking to someone they could not see. Reaching and crying for them.

Every year on my birthday my father visited. According to my mother they were married. I couldn't understand how you could be married to someone you'd only see once a year. He'd come and visit. We'd have dinner and he'd give me a gift. My mom would smile and laugh as my father remarked about how big I had gotten. He would stay the night and be gone before I woke the next morning.

His name was as my mom called him Brannon. That sounded ancient and old to be a name. It suited the man though it was unusual just like him. I always just called him dad. It felt normal to me no matter how little he visited.

From the time I was a baby... I could do things other kids couldn't. I was picked on constantly cause I never did anything the other boys liked. I was into reading a good book and soaking in nature. My mom always told me to never let the teasing get to me and it would one day make me a strong and courageous man.

When my mother died, I was eight. I'll never forget my neighbor coming over and telling me my mom had been in a accident. She had often left me home alone because she worked late. I never blamed her for it or saw anything wrong with it. I ran the four miles to the hospital. I ran to the room they had her in pushing through doctors and nurses. They screamed at me to get out. What I found shattered me for life. My mother broken and half dead laying on the bed. I screamed and cried until a doctor had to pry me away for her cold broken body.

My father didn't come to the funeral or so my grandparents told me despite me insisting he was there standing in the corner. They called him a filthy lowlife and said he ruined their daughter. Said he'd never been around. It made me want to curl up in a ball and die. I was the only one alive who truly knew him.

Now I knew why mom never let them visit. I had no desire to live with them but, I had no choice. You see I had no other family willing to take me in. I screamed and cried until my grandfather slapped me and told me I was acting like a baby.

Ten years later and I still haven't changed my mind. Don't get me wrong my grandparents are okay to live with but, they hate my dad and won't talk about him. I heard the grandfather clock chime 12 times. Midnight. It was officially my birthday. I got up and padded downstairs. Snow was falling peacefully. I pulled a brownie out from the cabinets... my grandparents would kill me if they found out. I proceeded to stick a candle in it and whisper sang happy birthday to myself.
"Happy birthday my boy," A voice whispered.
I knew that voice better then any other and quickly looked up, "Mom?"
"Your father helped me."
"Dad?"
"You see Sam he's god."
I sat there in pure shock, my eyes wide. Well crap.