Ghosts Broken Mask

16 - 'Innocently unaware'

You bit back an emerging sob.

In the moment you weren't ashamed to go out without a fight. You had always been a fighter but for the first time in your life. You felt like you'd truly lost. A battle that had been consuming you for months, coming to an end and finally; you could be free.

You'd always been fighting, not meaning just training with your father. Fighting the lonely, the sadness, the empty hole inside of you that reserved itself for the love you never received until the last moment.

You were so used to fighting, thinking you could never go lower but it only ever did. After your father died you didn't feel lonely, you understood lonely. You didn't feel sad, you felt miserable. And worst of all, you were hollow all over, not just a hole. But you yourself, empty thoughts pinging of the sides of your brain and echoing around your body.

You were angry at first. You'd always been angry deep down, you knew that. You blocked the grief, the mourning, the sadness that followed the dark days and replaced it with anger, letting it boil. Angry that he never taught you, how to love, how to care, how to express.

He'd spoken about your life, that in some situations you had to risk yourself. But he never prepared you for life without him. You were angry he never treated you like a child, never acted as your father more as your leader. Even if you looked up to him as an idol, you were still his kid.

You were angry that he got to leave you. It wasn't fair. He was never around but he always there. Without his presence left you lost, you felt lonely in the same house with him but oh God the lonely you felt when he wasn't there, especially since you knew he'd never come back. You were angry at him, you thought you didn't miss him.

But you did. Things started to make sense, he cared. He just couldn't express it; he knew your brain would run wild without a list due to your ADHD and so he always left pens and notepads out. He knew you forgot small things; he never blamed you. He always had meals ready for you, always awake before you, making sure you took your medication.

A care that he himself couldn't express. He knew you were his kid. He couldn't show it himself, so he did small actions that you took for granted, despite his stern and demanding demeanor. He pushed you to your limits, built your tolerance towards overwhelming emotions. Teaching you not to let them interfere with your objectives or life in general.

He taught you everything you knew, did u owe him that? He taught you how to fight, how to feel, your tactics, your knowledge, how to kill, shoot, hurt, run, how to protect yourself. But he never taught you how to love, how to fall asleep at night, how to cope, express, fend of that stupid lonely feeling, how to breakdown.

Now you were in the midst of one, maybe you looked pathetic to Greg, but you already felt so dead. Like the world was a room, and everyone was something, a book of adventure, a favorite piece of clothing, a fluffy blanket and you were just a dead plant, left on the windowsill.

So yes. You had felt angry at him. But underneath his actions and reasons laid a hidden ocean of care and love that he could never show you, because he didn't know how. Most of all, you were angry at yourself. Blame had always hung on you like a backpack, maybe this was your fault.

You were angry that you felt so envious of little kids out with their fathers, laughing, playing, bonding. Jealous whenever you walked past playgrounds seeing kids and their fathers making memories and showing love. While they were being pushed on swings you were being taught how to snap someone's neck.

You just wanted your father sometimes. But you appreciated the memories of when you'd both sit reading beside each other, doing the morning newspaper crosswords together. Anger stepped down from its throne and in replace sat grief, tearing you apart as you held the gun, crying while Greg encouraged you.