Drabble 48: Memories Part III
Eric Foreman sat at his desk, trying to understand math. The silence was overwhelming as the preteen boy's pencil scribbled answers to equations.
His father had always ignored him. They spoke very little and did just about nothing together. Eric pretended he didn't care, but it tore him up. He said, "It's nothing," when friends asked him why he looked so lonely.
He never needed to lie. Sometimes, Eric wished his father would beat him. That way, he'd have his attention. That way, perhaps he would know that he meant something.
That something could easily be nothing. It didn't matter.
Fin.
