Adam
'That'll be £6.27' says the cashier. I hand him a £10 note. It feels like time slows as he reaches for the change, because I know that there is a piercing set of eyes staring into the back of my skull. They want, they need a reaction from me, a reaction that I am equally desperate not to give. My father always had a presence about him, one of disgust with the world around him, that he was so bored in his miserable life, that he dragged me, mum and even the dog down with him. And now he has the audacity to stand here in front of me, wanting to repair years of hurt, emotional abuse and neglect. He doesn't deserve the chance, and I'm not going to let him. He hands the change back to me and I start to walk out of the store, and out of the door. I hear the door close after me and I start to head home, my gaze never leaving my shoes. But the man that had once been my father followed me out of the shop.
'Adam, please' he says. I ignore him and start to walk faster in the direction of home.
I hear his steps quicken and he reaches me and puts his arm on my shoulder. I flinch and push his arm off me.
'Don't touch me' I tell him through clenched teeth.
'I just want to talk' he replies, his face filled with a calm that I've never associated with him.
'You want to talk?' I say, the tears starting to roll down my cheek. 'You want to talk? You think that TALKING will repair everything that you've done to me. You think that talking will make up for years of neglect, abuse and your pathetic attempts to be my father. You think that it'll all be rosy between us after what you did to me. Constant comparisons with my perfect sister, never living up to your expectations of someone that I never wanted to be, was never going to be, and never will be. Do you have any idea how hard it is being the headteacher's son, the pressure that puts on you, not just from you, but from all the other fucking people around me? No, you don't. I know I was never the most academically gifted student, but you. You made damn sure I knew that. You made it so abundantly clear how worthless and how useless I was, that you sent me off to fucking military school so I wouldn't embarrass you anymore. You know what's more embarrassing than having a son show his penis to his peers, having a father who raised him to be in that state to begin with. I don't want to make peace with you. I don't ever want to see you again. I want you out of my life, and out of mum's. She's moved on, I've moved on. Now you be the grown fucking mature man you always wanted me to be and stay out of our lives.'
I turn around and leave him in the rain, so much raw emotion running through me I didn't know if I wanted to hit something or just be hugged by Eric. I almost run home, I'm so desperate to be back and as soon as I see mum in the kitchen, I break down. It's all too much for me. She picks me up and through my stinging eyes from the tears, I think head to the sofa, and I finally have a chance rest. The emotion that I had felt unlike anything. The rush was too much, and I think I pass out, as I just rest and dream of Eric and the times we had shared together.