Father of mine
tell me where have you been
you know i just closed my eyes
whole world disappeared
father of mine
take me back to the day
when i was still your golden boy
back before you went away
Rowan tore out of the door, demon close behind. "Da! No!" he yelled, trying to reason and run as fast as he could at the same time.
(Peter's POV)
"You little fucker! You betrayed me!" The man tore after the youth, the rest of the group in hot pursuit, sliding, slipping in the damned mud. Please God, let Rowan get away, Peter tried to plead to a God who didn't seem to be listening and run at the same time.
"Da just calm down!" The boy dashed on. Then cruel Fate decided it needed to intervene. Rowan slipped and sliding in the mud, he hit the wood one of the buildings. "Da, listen to me. I didn't mean," he pleaded Irish accent prominent, back against the wood and large angry man only an arm's length away. He was silenced by a hard punch that was the first stone in a hail.
i remember blue skies
walking the block
i loved it when you held me high
i loved to hear you talk
you would take me to the movie
you would take me to the beach
you would take me to a place inside
that is so hard to reach
Father of mine
tell me where did you go
you had the world inside your hand
but you did not seem to know
father of mine
tell me what do you see
when you look back at your wasted life
and you don't see me
Rowan struggled to hit back, slugged the man once, maybe twice, then was beaten to the ground. The man began to kick him. The rest of the group struggled to catch up, still sliding in then mud, loosing ability to stand, to move as the rain poured down, masking their desperate tears. This couldn't be a father. What father would so coldly kick and pummel the boy that lay on the ground, screaming incomprehensible words that had no meaning to them? Better yet, it was easier to imagine the pile wasn't a boy, wasn't a person, just a punching bag. So much easier. Until the man pulled at the gun, aiming it at the mound. "Say 'allo to yer sister," he mumbled drunkenly.
I was ten years ole
doing all that i could
it wasn't easy for me
to be a scared white boy
in a black neighborhood
sometimes you would send me a birthday card
with a five dollar bill
i never understood you then
and i guess i never will
daddy gave me a name
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
"Freeze," came a new voice, clear and unwavering, the word holding golden dropped in the air. The man moved his head slowly to look into the barrel of Dwayne's gun. "Drop your gun," commanded the new Dwayne, not the laughing Dwayne, or the pissed Dwayne, put a Dwayne firmly in control, although he may not like the position he held. The man dropped the gun. "Step away from Rowan."
"He's shit. Why would you care about him?"
"Shut up. I swear to God, I'll blow your goddamn head off." Sophie rushed inside to call 911 and Peter rushed over to the shapeless lump that poured blood, so much blood. Tenderly, carefully, Peter knelt down and felt for a pulse.
"He's breathing. Just barely but he's got a pulse." For a moment Peter debated with himself. Rowan needed to be turned on to his back so his blood wouldn't suffocate him but he didn't know if he had internal injuries. "Roger, I need a little help." Speaking to the counselor that had appeared, knowing he would be needed. Slowly the two turned Rowan onto his back. The boy coughed once and stopped breathing.
father of mine
tell me where have you been
i just closed my eyes
and the world disappeared
father of mine
tell me how do you sleep
with the children you abandoned
and the wife i saw you beat
"Oh God!" yelled Peter once. He started CPR, gingerly pressing on Rowan's ribs. The boy coughed again, breathing shallowly, but breathing. Oh God, he was breathing. Rowan coughed again, coughed and coughed and coughed. Blood was spitting out of his mouth, getting all over Roger and Peter.
"What do we do?" asked Roger hurriedly.
i will never be safe
i will never be sane
i will always be weird inside
i will always be lame
now i'm a grown man
with a child of my own
and i swear that i'm not going to let her know
all the pain i have known
Then thankfully, the blue and red lights, the men who said Rowan was dying, almost there. So very close. He was hanging on by a thread. They said it sadly, as if the line connecting the boy to life was already broken. Nonononononononono, thought Peter. No.
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
tell me where have you been
you know i just closed my eyes
whole world disappeared
father of mine
take me back to the day
when i was still your golden boy
back before you went away
Rowan tore out of the door, demon close behind. "Da! No!" he yelled, trying to reason and run as fast as he could at the same time.
(Peter's POV)
"You little fucker! You betrayed me!" The man tore after the youth, the rest of the group in hot pursuit, sliding, slipping in the damned mud. Please God, let Rowan get away, Peter tried to plead to a God who didn't seem to be listening and run at the same time.
"Da just calm down!" The boy dashed on. Then cruel Fate decided it needed to intervene. Rowan slipped and sliding in the mud, he hit the wood one of the buildings. "Da, listen to me. I didn't mean," he pleaded Irish accent prominent, back against the wood and large angry man only an arm's length away. He was silenced by a hard punch that was the first stone in a hail.
i remember blue skies
walking the block
i loved it when you held me high
i loved to hear you talk
you would take me to the movie
you would take me to the beach
you would take me to a place inside
that is so hard to reach
Father of mine
tell me where did you go
you had the world inside your hand
but you did not seem to know
father of mine
tell me what do you see
when you look back at your wasted life
and you don't see me
Rowan struggled to hit back, slugged the man once, maybe twice, then was beaten to the ground. The man began to kick him. The rest of the group struggled to catch up, still sliding in then mud, loosing ability to stand, to move as the rain poured down, masking their desperate tears. This couldn't be a father. What father would so coldly kick and pummel the boy that lay on the ground, screaming incomprehensible words that had no meaning to them? Better yet, it was easier to imagine the pile wasn't a boy, wasn't a person, just a punching bag. So much easier. Until the man pulled at the gun, aiming it at the mound. "Say 'allo to yer sister," he mumbled drunkenly.
I was ten years ole
doing all that i could
it wasn't easy for me
to be a scared white boy
in a black neighborhood
sometimes you would send me a birthday card
with a five dollar bill
i never understood you then
and i guess i never will
daddy gave me a name
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
"Freeze," came a new voice, clear and unwavering, the word holding golden dropped in the air. The man moved his head slowly to look into the barrel of Dwayne's gun. "Drop your gun," commanded the new Dwayne, not the laughing Dwayne, or the pissed Dwayne, put a Dwayne firmly in control, although he may not like the position he held. The man dropped the gun. "Step away from Rowan."
"He's shit. Why would you care about him?"
"Shut up. I swear to God, I'll blow your goddamn head off." Sophie rushed inside to call 911 and Peter rushed over to the shapeless lump that poured blood, so much blood. Tenderly, carefully, Peter knelt down and felt for a pulse.
"He's breathing. Just barely but he's got a pulse." For a moment Peter debated with himself. Rowan needed to be turned on to his back so his blood wouldn't suffocate him but he didn't know if he had internal injuries. "Roger, I need a little help." Speaking to the counselor that had appeared, knowing he would be needed. Slowly the two turned Rowan onto his back. The boy coughed once and stopped breathing.
father of mine
tell me where have you been
i just closed my eyes
and the world disappeared
father of mine
tell me how do you sleep
with the children you abandoned
and the wife i saw you beat
"Oh God!" yelled Peter once. He started CPR, gingerly pressing on Rowan's ribs. The boy coughed again, breathing shallowly, but breathing. Oh God, he was breathing. Rowan coughed again, coughed and coughed and coughed. Blood was spitting out of his mouth, getting all over Roger and Peter.
"What do we do?" asked Roger hurriedly.
i will never be safe
i will never be sane
i will always be weird inside
i will always be lame
now i'm a grown man
with a child of my own
and i swear that i'm not going to let her know
all the pain i have known
Then thankfully, the blue and red lights, the men who said Rowan was dying, almost there. So very close. He was hanging on by a thread. They said it sadly, as if the line connecting the boy to life was already broken. Nonononononononono, thought Peter. No.
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
