It's been a while since I last saw my father. Let's see…It's actually been just over a year. Not that that bothers me at all, seeing as every time he does show up something bad happens. This time wasn't an exception.

I can't say it was the worst visit I've ever had with him. He was actually rather civil (for him anyway). He didn't make a move towards me with the intent to cause pain. He didn't have one of his body guards beat me because he didn't want to get his hands dirty. Didn't abuse me physically in any way.

I was almost worried that he was sick or something until he started in with the insults.

Even those weren't overly unbearable until he told me that he actually wished I had just gone ahead and killed myself and saved him the trouble of raising me any longer.

He'd hinted that I should kill myself, even so far as to get me a handgun for my birthday last year (it was the only present he had ever given me), but he hadn't ever outright said it. He also told me that my mother had actual had a nervous breakdown the other night when she had been told that I had lost my tennis match. It wasn't because she was worried about what it would do to my mental psyche at all. No, she was worried about how much shame it would bring to the family.

Because losing is unacceptable.

He asked me if I had forgotten my duty to the family and to the public to maintain the image of untouchable perfection. I told him that I hadn't, but he didn't believe me for obvious reasons. He told me that if I ever lost again- in anything, to anyone- that I should just consider myself permanently disowned.

Then he went on to describe exactly what his and my mother's lives would be like if I had never been born and it was a much prettier picture than what they were today. They weren't bordering on divorce, barely maintaining their precious public image or have as many wrinkles and grey hair as they do now (though how exactly that ruined their lives, I have failed to see). Basically, he told me I should never have been born and reiterated what he said earlier about how I should just kill myself before I cause any more pain for him.

Then he stood up from where he was relaxing into the couch and shook my hand and just walked out of the house as if he had just concluded a business deal instead of telling his only child to kill himself. Which, even in my own very depressed state of mine, I found a little sociopathic.

But that's the reason that right now, I'm sitting at my desk with that gun lying in front of me with the six bullets lined up perfectly straight next to it. Along with my literature assignment oddly enough.

I'm supposed to find the most played song on my Ipod and explain why I listen to it so much, or pick the song that best describes my mood at the moment and explain why. Then, I have to let the song play in front of the class and provide my explanation afterwards.

I guess it couldn't hurt to finish one last assignment, so I'll mail this to one of my teammates and have them submit it for me, along with the title of the song for them to play.

Here you go guys. It fits me perfectly and I think you'll agree.

Jamestown Story—Goodbye, I'm Sorry

- Atobe Keigo