My father

If he ever laughed I was afraid, there could only be one reason he was laughing and this reason never brought joy to anyone but himself alone.

As he stumbles through the hallway , knocking down family portraits, stepping on the glass that now invaded the hallway, he laughed. He laughed at the prospect of escape.

As the cool liquid travelled slowly down his throat he felt release. He was not alone. You could not be alone if you didn't allow it. Men are strong, they don't need companionship. What kind of pussy needs someone there to hold his hand at all times. No, he didnt need it, especially when you have your best buddy Jack. Jack Daniels that is. Jack laughed too, he laughed and encouraged my father.

"This will be your escape." Jack beckoned him, "I'll be here always".

Why couldn't my father see, that I was here too. He didn't need Jack. I would always be there.

I can hear him, laughing. The sickly laugh of a drunk. The slur or speech and the stench of alcohol. Why does he do this? Can't he see me?

"I'm right here..." my speech echoes down the hall into nothingness. I am alone. My father's escape has become my entrapment. Why can't we help each other?

Jack stares at me. "You aren't good enough, you cannot provide the relief I can." Jack taunts me.

I run. I run to fins my father. Glass penetrates the soft skin of my feet, blood stains the carpet a sickly red.

"Dad..." I call into the empty house. Nothing. I run, Jack follow, taunting, taunting.

"Dad!" I run outside, I see my father, he lies on the ground, laughing. Jack joins him. I can't pretend. I can't be alone anymore. Jack beckons me.

"You will never be alone, you can laugh insanely too." he states the fact, the reassurance overwhelms me as I sip the cool liquid. It fills me so completely, I drink, swallowing hard. I force the liquid down until nothing else can fit.  Nothing, no loneliness, no fear, no anger. Just...laughter.

I laugh in unison with my father. Jack laughs too.

The night sky surrounds me, it can't have ever been this beautiful before. I make pictures with the stars, I see faces and people smiling and laughing. The pictures begin to move faster and faster until the stars are performing a show for me. I am delighted and laugh along with the star people. No, it can't have ever been this lovely.

My feet no longer sting, a full river of blood flows from my feet. I make beautiful red patterns on the concrete.

My father sings, "...praying for the healing rain, to restore my soul again." I join him. We are a choir of two, always just us two. Jack laughs, on and on, he begins to move closer to me. I can smell the stale stench of alcohol on his breath. I watch him, a sickly, almost sinister, drunk smile playing on his face. I could never be alone.

Jack leans closer, so that he is inches from my ear.

I feel his hot breath as he whispers. "Welcome." I retreat, my smile fading. His smile turns to a smirk, "And so it begins."