Tolerance || Daddy's Home

Fighting Lessons

After not leaving dad's side until I made sure he was okay, I eventually made my way downstairs. Sara stayed with dad in their shared bedroom touching up the final bruises and cuts. Clueless, to the intensity of the situation, Megan invited me to watch frozen with him. I rejected it of course but got convinced by none other than Griff.

Megan calls him uncle Griff once, and had him wrapped around her finger ever since, doing everything she says. Including getting me to join.

I was sat on the floor by the end on the couch Griff laid on.

   "Wait. Prince Hans is actually the bad guy?" Griff asked.

   "Man, I didn't see that coming at all. He seemed like he really loved Anna."

   "I hate prince Hans." Megan added to her father's comment.

I don't think any one likes Hans after what he did. A huge plot twist honestly. I swear this movie is engraved in my brain by the amount of times Megan asked me to watch it with her.

   "Dusty."

I whipped my head to the voice. Dad stood on the outskirts of the living room looking at Dusty.

   "Hey, how you feeling, sparky?" Dusty asked, not bothering to look at dad.

   "Sparky. That's hilarious." Megan chuckled.

   "Brad, have you seen this movie?" Dusty asked, completely diverting his attention from dad to the movie and summarizing it.

   "Yeah, I'm familiar with Frozen." Dad deadpanned. "Listen, Dusty, I need to talk to you now."

   "I can't talk now, Brad."

   "Just pause the movie!" Dad suggested a little impatiently. I stood stretching my limbs taking a seat at the chair on the other side of the room.

A small bickering session rose at dad's suggested between Dusty and Griff. Dusty wanted the movie paused while Griff didn't want to ruin the momentum by pausing it. At the end, I took the remote and paused it much to Griff's complaints.

   "Thank you, Em." Dusty said. I glared at the man taking my seat back on the chair.

Even after year of breathing techniques and therapy I could never get my emotions to completely disappear like dad. But, with some convincing, I am able to get things under control. Even if these passed few days with Dusty have been testing me.

As dad spoke with Dusty, the door slammed, getting everyone's attention to Dylan. He weeped throwing his helmet to the ground. Sara came rushing down the stairs asking her son what happened.

   "They pushed me off my bike again! I'm so sick of it." He shouted marching up the stairs.

———

I didn't want to be apart of this. I really didn't. All this did was give me flashbacks to my time in elementary school being picked on for not having parents and being adopted. It was rough those years of my adolescent life. I guess— well, I guess Dylan didn't deserve to go through that either.

He could easily get them to stop if he listen to Dusty's advice which was to fight back. Dad... he never was one for conflict. A reason why my elementary years were so tough.

   "... But here's the thing. Violence never resolved anything."

   "I wouldn't know." I muttered under my breath picking under my fingernails.

   "Hey, check your history books, buddy. Almost everything is solved by violence." Dusty fought, spreading his arms wide apart.

   "There are better ways."