My first attempt at angst! AND ITS SHORT! Hooyah!
Father…
I think I know what was wrong with us.
It's an addiction, the almost sick thrill of knowing something- and then actually being able to do something about it; it's a kick, a high. To find yourself needed, wanted for something only you can do.
Everything I did, I did for you!
It sickens me that I can find any similarity in our personalities. I am no longer the frightened eleven-year old kid who blindly trusted you to be a better person than you actually were capable of being. Who worshipped you as only a son could- always as my father first, foremost, the famous Professor Membrane second- something you never bothered to understand.
Innocence is a painful thing to lose.
As I got older, I started to try to understand why you did it. Your obsessive need to protect a resoundingly stupid world through technological advancements made about as much sense as mine, to keep said world safe from an alien invasion no one believed in. I saw firsthand how the very people I had pledged to protect laughed and ridiculed me, most not subtle enough to do it behind my back, and I wondered, what happens when eventually, there is nothing more to invent, and you lose your purpose? With that in mind, I ask you this: which was more real? Those languid, dense humans who would always need but never fully appreciate your work, or the two kids at home whose whole world was you?
What I found most amusing was that we both tried to exude confidence to the point of arrogance, the notion that we were somehow better than those we wanted to protect. Immortal, when the only thing eternal about us was what we were doing and wanted to stand for. I mean, despite your years of so-called 'impact' on their lives, it literally took these idiots three weeks to forget you, for the news to stop covering your death and move on to 'the next thing.'
A fifteen-year old shouldn't have these things to say at a funeral, especially for their father. But then none of us were normal, were we? You kept trying to make me into your lab partner, never realizing I was just a kid. An idealist, against your wall of reality. I was never crazy, at least not the way either of us thought. My adoration for you was, however; the product of a child's naiveté, who still thought there was a place for heroes, for doing what I was taught was the right thing.
Kind of pathetic that a green-skinned extraterrestrial was the one to teach me there is no right answer, that you can't save the world and you're lucky if you can save yourself.
There is no good or evil, only prospective.
So, yes, I think I know what's wrong with us- in our own way, we both cared too much. I will not miss you, for what is there to miss, except the opportunity to tell you this myself?
Soooo angsty. (snort)
This first appeared as Dib's internal thoughts at his father's funeral, and kind of took off from there.
Mmm… I'm addicted to reviews…
Sick