This is a story I wrote with no intention to actually publish. However, after I beta'd a story my dear FMB wrote (story: 238) I had to post it to get him back . . . that ass . . .

I sat and stared at the TV silently. I could see my face on the screen.

I smile and clean the lens with my sleeve carefully then I turn the camera to my six-year-old son. "What are you doing there, Alfie?" I ask the small blonde sitting in the bath tub. "Making milkshakes!" he says excitedly, filling a cup with water and covering it with his hand before shaking it. The camera shook slightly and I chuckled.

A tear ran down my cheek as I watched the videos.

Alfred was a few years older as he sat on his bike, helmet loosely buckled under his chin. "Are you ready?" I asked and he nodded with a huge grin on his face. "Go!" I shouted as he pedaled down the drive. He only got a few yards before he lost his balance and toppled over. I chuckled lightly and ran to him. "You ok there, fella?" I asked him as I helped him up. "Yeah," he replied before gaining a very determined look and declaring, "I will try again! Until I can ride my bike without falling!" I laughed and brushed off his clothes for him.

I tried to hold the other tears back but it was no use.

Alfred was literally bouncing up and down by the pile of presents under the Christmas tree. He was wearing his firetruck onesy pajamas and whining, "Now can I open them!" "Ok ok go ahead." I gave in. He cheered, grabbing the closest present and ripping the paper off. "Woah!" he exclaimed, "Nurf guns!" He pulled them out of the package and shot at my camera, giggling. "Oi!" I laughed "Why don't you open some of your other presents?" He set the guns down and grabbed another box, clawing at it happily.

More tears had streaked down my face as I watched the television.

Alfred was almost twelve as he looked out of the passenger side window, his breath fogging the cold glass. Pine trees whipped by and the sky was an overcast grey color. "Now will you tell me where we're going?" he asked. "No." I chuckled. "Aww man!" he huffed as he sat back in his chair. There was a pause before I said, "We're going to stay in a cabin in the woods." His face lit up. "Really! Awesome!" I laughed again.

I let the tears fall, not caring any more.

The sun was shining through the pine trees and our cabin was in the background. We sat, eating our breakfast at the outside picnic table. "So tell me, Alfie, what do you want to be when you grow up?" "A fire fighter!" he answered immediately. "Oh? And why is that?" I asked. "Because they save people, just like super heroes!"

I stopped the video. I couldn't watch anymore. All he ever wanted to do was save people. What kind of father was I if I couldn't even save my own son? The one time he needed me the most I wasn't there. I shouldn't have let him go off by himself. I knew that river was there. I just never thought he would actually fall in.