Chapter 7
"Hello, Ken," my father, Keiichi Hidaka said, ignoring my scream of terror. Where the hell were the nurses? Didn't they hear me scream? Aya looked at my father in confusion.
"Nononononononononononono, you can't be here. You weren't supposed to find me. You were supposed think I'm dead so that I never have see you again. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away." I was talking in that lost little boy voice I had used during my little episode with Aya the other night. I was scared to death of my father.
"Can we have a moment alone, please?" My father said to Aya. My (not mine. never ever mine) beautiful redhead left the room, leaving me alone with my father.
"Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. You killed Mommy. You're a bad man. You hurt me. Please don't hurt. I try to be good, Daddy, but it just doesn't work. I don't mean to do anything wrong, Daddy, but I always do. Please don't hurt me, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Daddy."
He walked over and pulled me into his arms comfortingly. This confused me and I whimpered. My father had never held me before. He never even touched me unless he was beating me or the few times he'd raped me when he was drunk.
"You're going to come home with me, musuko(1). You should have stayed with me, Ken. It's alright, though. We're going home now," he said quietly in my ear as he ran his hands through my hair. I tried to break out of my trance, tell him that I hated him and that I would never go anywhere with him, but all I could do was talk gibberish in a childish voice and whimper.
"No, Daddy. I like it here. Everyone still hurts me, except Aya, but I like it here. Isn't Aya pretty, Daddy? Here, people pretend to like me, Daddy. No one loves me, though, but you told me that I'm not worthy of love, so I don't really mind as much anymore. I want to be with Aya, Daddy. He's so pretty and I get to look at him all the time and sometimes I imagine he loves me. It feels nice when I dream about him being nice to me, Daddy. He's all warm and gentle, but dreams are just wishes that the heart makes and my wishes never come because I don't deserve it, right, Daddy? I'm a bad little boy and bad little boys don't deserve love and should be punished. Are you going to punish me, Daddy? Did I do something wrong again? I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."
"Ken," he whispered, still running his hands through my hair, "It's alright now. I got help, got off alcohol, cleaned up my life, and almost came clean about your mother, but I wanted to be with you, Ken. I came here to apologize. You're beautiful, Ken. You look just like your mother and all of that stuff I said when you were young, it wasn't true. You do deserve love, Ken. Everyone does. I was a moron, Ken. I hurt you and you never deserved any of it, you hear me? You're a good person."
That broke my trance. I cried heavily.
"No, I'm not. I'm not, Dad. I'm dirty. I'm a whore and I'm pathetic. I hate myself. I can barely stand to look in the mirror and even when I do, there's always stuff written on it or it's all foggy so that I can't see what I really look like," I sobbed into his chest.
He stroked my back and talked quietly, soothingly, the way a father should talk to his crying son.
"It's not your fault, Ken. It's mine. It's all my fault. I'm a bad person, not you. I know I don't deserve it, but will you... forgive me?"
"Dad?" I asked softly, snuggling against his chest, "Do you love me?"
"Yes, Ken. I love you very much."
"I love you too, Dad And I forgive you."
I wasn't sure if I ever truly hated my father. In my opinion, it's hard to hate someone who gave you life, but there are others who would disagree. I felt better, for reason. Like suddenly, my life wasn't completely unlivable. I wanted to live with my Dad. I wanted to be with him and make up for the time together we lost, visit Mom's grave, carry on the family business, maybe. I just wanted to have a real family.
But I was afraid. What if he betrayed me like Kase? What if it was all a lie so that I would be his whore again and help him persuade his associates to do things for him? What if he raped me again? I know I would break.
"So you'll come home with me?" he asked softly, pulling away so that he could look at my tear-stained face and into my watery eyes.
I got my eyes and coloring from him, but I got everything else from my mother, that's for sure. I sighed heavily and nodded. He smiled broadly, taking me slightly aback. I had never seen my father smile before.
"I'm trusting you, Dad. Please don't betray my trust. I... I just couldn't take it. Everyone I've ever trusted has hurt me, Dad. I just couldn't recover again."
Dad kissed my forehead and smiled at me before turning to leave the room and prepare for me to come home.
Home.
I'd never had a real home before.
Aya walked in when Dad was gone. He looked at me with concern. I smiled slightly, the first real smile in a long time.
"I'm going home," I breathed happily, looking up at him. He nodded. I licked my lower lip and paused. I sighed and smiled excitedly.
"I'm going home, Aya. I have a home."
(1) musuka - son
"Hello, Ken," my father, Keiichi Hidaka said, ignoring my scream of terror. Where the hell were the nurses? Didn't they hear me scream? Aya looked at my father in confusion.
"Nononononononononononono, you can't be here. You weren't supposed to find me. You were supposed think I'm dead so that I never have see you again. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away." I was talking in that lost little boy voice I had used during my little episode with Aya the other night. I was scared to death of my father.
"Can we have a moment alone, please?" My father said to Aya. My (not mine. never ever mine) beautiful redhead left the room, leaving me alone with my father.
"Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. You killed Mommy. You're a bad man. You hurt me. Please don't hurt. I try to be good, Daddy, but it just doesn't work. I don't mean to do anything wrong, Daddy, but I always do. Please don't hurt me, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Daddy."
He walked over and pulled me into his arms comfortingly. This confused me and I whimpered. My father had never held me before. He never even touched me unless he was beating me or the few times he'd raped me when he was drunk.
"You're going to come home with me, musuko(1). You should have stayed with me, Ken. It's alright, though. We're going home now," he said quietly in my ear as he ran his hands through my hair. I tried to break out of my trance, tell him that I hated him and that I would never go anywhere with him, but all I could do was talk gibberish in a childish voice and whimper.
"No, Daddy. I like it here. Everyone still hurts me, except Aya, but I like it here. Isn't Aya pretty, Daddy? Here, people pretend to like me, Daddy. No one loves me, though, but you told me that I'm not worthy of love, so I don't really mind as much anymore. I want to be with Aya, Daddy. He's so pretty and I get to look at him all the time and sometimes I imagine he loves me. It feels nice when I dream about him being nice to me, Daddy. He's all warm and gentle, but dreams are just wishes that the heart makes and my wishes never come because I don't deserve it, right, Daddy? I'm a bad little boy and bad little boys don't deserve love and should be punished. Are you going to punish me, Daddy? Did I do something wrong again? I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."
"Ken," he whispered, still running his hands through my hair, "It's alright now. I got help, got off alcohol, cleaned up my life, and almost came clean about your mother, but I wanted to be with you, Ken. I came here to apologize. You're beautiful, Ken. You look just like your mother and all of that stuff I said when you were young, it wasn't true. You do deserve love, Ken. Everyone does. I was a moron, Ken. I hurt you and you never deserved any of it, you hear me? You're a good person."
That broke my trance. I cried heavily.
"No, I'm not. I'm not, Dad. I'm dirty. I'm a whore and I'm pathetic. I hate myself. I can barely stand to look in the mirror and even when I do, there's always stuff written on it or it's all foggy so that I can't see what I really look like," I sobbed into his chest.
He stroked my back and talked quietly, soothingly, the way a father should talk to his crying son.
"It's not your fault, Ken. It's mine. It's all my fault. I'm a bad person, not you. I know I don't deserve it, but will you... forgive me?"
"Dad?" I asked softly, snuggling against his chest, "Do you love me?"
"Yes, Ken. I love you very much."
"I love you too, Dad And I forgive you."
I wasn't sure if I ever truly hated my father. In my opinion, it's hard to hate someone who gave you life, but there are others who would disagree. I felt better, for reason. Like suddenly, my life wasn't completely unlivable. I wanted to live with my Dad. I wanted to be with him and make up for the time together we lost, visit Mom's grave, carry on the family business, maybe. I just wanted to have a real family.
But I was afraid. What if he betrayed me like Kase? What if it was all a lie so that I would be his whore again and help him persuade his associates to do things for him? What if he raped me again? I know I would break.
"So you'll come home with me?" he asked softly, pulling away so that he could look at my tear-stained face and into my watery eyes.
I got my eyes and coloring from him, but I got everything else from my mother, that's for sure. I sighed heavily and nodded. He smiled broadly, taking me slightly aback. I had never seen my father smile before.
"I'm trusting you, Dad. Please don't betray my trust. I... I just couldn't take it. Everyone I've ever trusted has hurt me, Dad. I just couldn't recover again."
Dad kissed my forehead and smiled at me before turning to leave the room and prepare for me to come home.
Home.
I'd never had a real home before.
Aya walked in when Dad was gone. He looked at me with concern. I smiled slightly, the first real smile in a long time.
"I'm going home," I breathed happily, looking up at him. He nodded. I licked my lower lip and paused. I sighed and smiled excitedly.
"I'm going home, Aya. I have a home."
(1) musuka - son