Not my father? No. He's not my father. He's just Walter bishop. And I'm Peter Bishop. Same last name, no connection. How can he stand there and want me to forgive him? To understand? Oh I understand alright. Understand that Walter is just a sad example of an old man. I had deal with him being messed up during my whole childhood, experimenting on me and such, and now I finally start to accept him and him being father. My poor mother. No wonder she killed herself, knowing her only son was gone, and that this other boy sitting in there house and sleeping in his bed and sharing his name and appearance wasn't him. It makes sense now why I would see her at night watching me with teary eyes, watching me. Walter is gone now; I can't hear his pathetic sobbing anymore. Good. Because I'm getting myself out of here.

"Nurse!!" I yell, with probably too much resentment in my tone. The small lady walks into the room, almost looking scared.

"Yes?" she says.

"When is the earliest I can check out? Tomorrow morning?" I ask her, hoping the stoic look is still glued on my face. The nurse nodded And said,

"Any time in the morning would be fine."

"How about two?" I pressed, wanting to get as far away from Boston as I could.

The nurse looked concerned for a moment, then nodded again.

"Thank you," I said as I glanced at her small print name card, "Olivia." And with that she left, but new thoughts had entered my mind.

What about Olivia. After all this time, can I really leave? Before, I was too worried about Walter to become involved, but now? No. I can't. If I go to her she will persuade me to go back to Walter, which is something I won't do. Just thinking of her already adds more pain on top of the pre-existing pain. All this time, Walter and Olivia were acting so strange and distant. He told her before me? Why would he do that? Stop. I have to stop. The logical part of my brain will prevent me from leaving. If I start thinking about his reasons, I'll start to feel pity again. That can't happen. Starting to pack my few things, I noticed the new message screen flashing on my phone. Picking it up, I go to voicemail and listen to four messages from Olivia.

"Peter? Are you alright? Please answer your phone." One said. And another, "It's me again. Please talk to us. Or just me or even Gene if you really want to." She paused and I could tell she was smiling to herself, imagining me talking to Gene, as was I. "So please call any of us back." She finished. I closed my phone after listening to all the messages. But the fourth one had really hit me.

"Peter? Please. We need you here. Walter needs you. I don't know why I keep calling. I know you are probably listening to these messages, with no intention of coming back. Just consider what we all had here. Our "odd little family unit" as someone very close to me once said. Goodbye, Peter."

Her last statement was what made my mind race. That day, I was going to tell her the opposite of what I did, but when I saw Walter throughout the day, I just couldn't risk it. Olivia had seemed so troubled all of this time, and I only got part of the reason right. Yes, it was about me, and it was also about where I came from. I thought about the other world and my real parents the rest of the night. Once it reached two, I knew I had to leave. I have not forgiven Walter nor do I intend to, but I do accept one thing; I'm Peter bishop and I don't remember most of my childhood. Why not? Because I'm not from here. I was kidnapped as a child from my real home and now I'm stuck here.

Maybe it's time to finally sign myself up for one of those self help groups. "Hi I'm Peter and I'm from the alternate universe." Then everyone would just echo the usual response, "Hi, peter." I chuckled, as if that would ever happen. My life will never be the same.