Boy of Sorrow

I think I was young when it happened.

There were bits and pieces that I remembered of what went on that particular day, mostly me waking up only to find myself strapped to a pristine white bed. Plastic tubes jutted out of my small body, some looking as if they were putting clear liquid in my veins while others were draining out on what appeared to me anyways, dark muddy blood. Of course being young at the time, I freaked out and tried to rip the cords out of my body. As soon as I did however, someone in a nurses out fit immediately came up to me out of nowhere in my room. Her brown eyes looked at me in both sorrow but with a hint of disapproval as she placed the tube back into my arm. I was about to scream a loud protest at her but she placed her index finger on my lips which silenced me before taking her finger away from my lips once more and spoke.

“Don't you dare take off these cords OK? You need them for a bit more longer until the doctor says it is alright to remove them.” She scolded me before walking out of my room but not before closing the door behind her. This was the first time that I became more aware of my surroundings instead of focusing on just myself for once. Obviously just by the looks of the antiseptic looking room I was in a hospital. But what puzzled me was how I got in there in the first place. During the course remainder of my time in there not once did any doctor answer any of my questions as they came to check up on me. They would just come in, check something on the clipboard that was hooked to the bottom of the bed, scribble something on it before placing it back to where it belonged and walked out once more. This of course infuriated me because I felt I was being mistreated and not being heard. They made me feel as if I was a specimen and not at all a human being as they continued to adjust somethings into me or write on the charts that was left hanging on my bed.

I must have been in there for a week, possibly longer in that infuriating place called a hospital with that said, I would often think about where my parents could have gone or what happened to them seeing as I never heard from them in long time and surely they wouldn't have forgotten their only son who was barely a teenager at the time. It made me sick with worry that something bad must have happened to them like maybe whatever happened to me, also happened to them as well? Maybe they were in this same hospital but in a different room from mine? As soon as I thought about that, I quickly dismissed it, I did not want to believe any of those bad things happening to them as well and so I continued to be poked, prod and checked up from the doctors for the next couple of hours until something unexpected happened.

The same nurse that hassled me a few days ago about my cords came up to me. She smiled sweetly at me as she gently took off the much annoying cords out of my body once more. After that was done, she went back out of my room only to reappear with a small pair of clothing for me to wear and placed it on the bed beside me. But before leaving once more to take care of her other duties, she looked me strait in the eyes once more. Her face stretched into a very beautiful smile. “Your father is here to pick you up. Isn't that great?”

I smiled a wide toothy smile at her and nodded oh so very enthusiastically. The nurse gave out a slight giggle to my response before replying once more. “I will give you a few minutes to change into your clothing before I sent your father in okay?” She said sweetly at me.

“Sure,” I said as she walked out the room one last time, making sure that she closed the door behind her.

Even though I felt a bit giddy about finally getting out of here, I still slowly sat up in sitting position, letting the blood flow down from my head to my body and back up in its normal flow before stepping on the cold tile floor beneath my bare pale feet. The news about my father picking me up kind of stunned me a bit as well, normally I wouldn't put it past my mother to come and pick me up but my father on the other hand, well him and I never really got to see eye to eye with each other. Don't get me wrong, I know my father loves me otherwise he wouldn't have married my mother in the first place but the thing is, is that we don't completely get each other. Him and I not only have completely different interest but our appearances a slightly different as well. He is a very broad man, tall, muscular and strict looking. He also had a red beard and red hair and a pale skin complexion due to us being Irish. Me on the other hand is bone skinny, pale, freckly, and is the humanoid version of being a toothpick.

I do however sport the red hair look although it is a much darker shade compared to his bright hair color but I suppose that's just it. Everything else I have is inherited by my mother with not just only looks but also interest. She and I have this passion for the arts and crafts while my father only cared about sports.

A light knock came from my door just as I was about finished buttoning my pants. “Come in.” I said and the door opened, revealing my father who inhabited the door frame like a huge giant. The red rims around his eyes looked swollen and puffy as if he was crying for hours on end and couldn't stop. Even though it made me glad that he finally came to pick me up, it broke my heart to see him look like this. Not to mention a heavy load of guilt that felt like it was developing inside my stomach.

“Hey dad,” I said unsurly. He nodded his head, showing that he acknowledge my greeting to him, that's the thing about my father, he was a man of few words as he took my hand in his and pulled me gently out of the room and into the reception hall. There were of course a lot of doctors coming in and out of multiple rooms checking up on other patients who were in critical need as well but I also spotted a few patients in wheelchairs and such, being carted away with helping nurses as well.

My father stopped at the tall reception desk and asked for the papers to sign to the lady at the computer. Without another word, she handed my father the papers that he requested and signed them while I continued to look around our surroundings, there were a few children much more younger then me as well. One particular child stood out from the rest in the lobby, she didn't look much older then ten years old, her hair was completely bald and she was sitting in a wheelchair while playing on what looks to be a doll. She looked lonely and sad while the other kids were doing their own thing. I must have made her feel a bit self conscience because not a moment later, she was looking around her surroundings trying to find out who was looking at her that I finally looked away feeling even more shittier now that I made someone feel extremely uncomfortable unintentionally. It was also at this time that my father handed the lady back the papers and grabbed my hand once more towards the front door. The sun hurt my eyes for a bit due to not being outside for god knows how long, but my vision slowly adjusted to the suns harmful rays as my father continued to guide to the car that was parked conveniently in front of the hospital building.

My father opened the car door for me and waited patiently for me to settle myself inside, once settled, he closed the door for me and made his way to his seat and settled there before driving out into the road. The drive was quiet, saved only for the slight revving of the car pushing us towards our next destination. By this time, many more questions bubbled inside my head as we continued to pass huge chunks of clustered trees at a reasonable face. I looked away from what laid outside the window and on to my father who stared rightfully out the front window shield. I knew I shouldn't bug my father while he was driving, in fact I knew better then that, but the questions couldn't stop plaguing my mind.

After awhile of debating inside my head, I finally made my decision.

“Dad?” I asked tentatively.

It took him a bit to answer me but eventually he did.

“Yes?” My fathers low rumbled voice answered back.

I bit my lip for a moment but I pressed forward deciding on the most easiest questions first.

“Where is mom?” I asked innocently to him.

My father said nothing, instead his hands gripped tighter on the wheel making his knuckles white from the over protrusion of force but at the time I didn't know that this question was the reason why he set off but I pressed on a bit more further.

“Why was I at the hospital? I asked the doctors and nurses that question but no body answered me, they all treated me as if wasn't there and-”

“Hayden, enough.” My father said. His tone was quiet and gently sounding almost but that didn't match the look in his eyes, he seemed almost angry. This was the first time that I saw my father purely angry and it scared me so much that I remained quiet the whole remaining of the trip which was only an hour drive from the hospital to my home. The questions once again bubbled around my mind but this time I kept it to myself, not wanting chance it.

After and hour long drive we finally made it to the house, I was expecting my mother to come running out the front door waiting for us but she didn't. Instead, there was only my father walking towards the front of the house with me in tow. Perhaps she is sleeping? I thought to myself wearily. The metal hinges on the door gave a eerie screeched as my father forced the door open. The house looked vacant, everything was where it should have been but it didn't feel right.

As I watched my father go to the kitchen, I made my way upstairs. My mother had a habit of taking a lot of pictures so when I made my way upstairs, I was greeted with the sight of picture frames filled with just both my dad, my mom and I. There were also a few pictures of my parents wedding which was one of my favorite pictures because that was the only one that I ever seen my father give out a genuine smile. After looking at the pictures in nogalista, I slowly walked towards my parents room which was the first door to the right and peered quietly inside the room.

The door gave out a small creek sound as I did this, but I pressed on slightly further not wanting to wake her. Once the crack was big enough for my to peer through, I looked inside. What I saw confused me even further. The room was empty of any human presence just like in the living room. By this point I was also starting to panic as I discovered that my mother might be missing but I had to reassure myself again because if she was missing I am sure my father would have panicked and gone looking for her but then again my father was the type to not show any emotions at all and usually kept it bottle in himself. That was the only thing that my mother disliked about him, him keeping all of his emotions bottled up. “It's not healthy for you to do that.” She would constantly say to him. But he was stubborn and just merely shrugged his shoulders at this before doing something else that needed to be done that day.

I must have stood at the bedroom door way far longer then I wanted to because I felt a familiar hand push me back into the hallway only to see my fathers look of anger directed at me this time. I cringed at his glare a little bit but I did my best to look him straight in the eye. “What did I tell you about going into our room, Hayden?” He said.

I fidgeted under his glare once more but I tried my best to answer. “That I should never go in there unless I was given permission to and that I should respect other peoples private spaces.” I said to him. My father let go his tight hold on my arms while he nodded to what I just said. He then closed and locked his bedroom door before walking down the stair way without so much as looking at me. Trying to shake off that ashamed feeling, I made my way towards my bedroom which was a few more doors down and closed the door behind me. Everything in my room was where it should have been, bed made, toys put away, clothes in the drawer, the works so why does it feel as if there was something that did not belong here at all? The sounds of a car starting up again stolen me from my reverie and out of curiosity, I looked out my window which viewed the front of the house only to see my father backing out the drives way once more. Maybe he is going to get mom! That thought alone made me smile a bit as I imagined my mother storming out of that car the moment it touched out driveway only to rush into the house in search of me. Well she wouldn't have to do that, because I will be the first one running out to the car to greet her.

Hours went by and I haven't seen nor heard about my fathers were about. This again worried me as I paced to and from my room for a bit. It wasn't until it was in the dead of night that I heard something inside the house, fortunately I wasn't asleep due to constant worry for both of my parents once more and now there might be a criminal in the house. Fortunately I had a baseball bat that my dad made me play in not so long ago and I immediately grabbed it without second thought as I hid the bat behind my back and slowly tiptoed to where the noise was coming from. I listened intently as I neared the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. I continued to tip toe to the kitchen in the pure pitch black darkness I made out a tall figure in the middle of the room. His back was facing towards me as I crept closer and closer to him. As I got close enough, something rancid filled my nostrils making me tear up a bit. A homeless person Perhaps? We get a lot of them around where I live, but still homeless people are dangerous especially when they come to your house uninvited. Just as I was about to raise my bat, the light from the refrigerator lit up showing the back of my father. I stopped the back at mid swing just as he turned around to face me. Luckily I stopped just in time because I was aiming at his head. My father stopped in his tracks, obviously taken by surprise that his own son almost hit him in the head but soon recovered. I saw his eyes harden just like earlier except this time, he let out his anger.

“Oh so you want to beat your old man huh?” He said in a slurred voice.

Overcoming with my own shock I managed to squeak out my voice. “No! I-I thought you were burglar so I tri-"

“Tried to hit me!” He interrupted.

“N-no! I wasn't trying to hit you, I thou-”

I don't know how he did this, considering he was a very large man but the moment I tried to finish my last sentence, he lunged at me in full speed, grabbing my arms in the process. Once in his grasp a very terrified nine year old me, was picked up in the air and was being roughly shaken by my father. I remembered being so terrified that night to the point where I wanted to pee my pants but I held it together as best as any nine year old boy could when their parent starts scolding or beating them.

I also remembered him screaming too, with every jumbled shake he gave me he screamed this at me:

“You killed her! And now you want me dead too? Its all your fault that she isn't here!”

After that he, let go of me but not before giving me a huge Smack! Against my face. I was taken even more aback because like I said earlier, my parents were never laid a hand on me until that night. Tears weld up in my eyes after that sting but I refused to cry in front of my father who glared so hatefully at me. After a while of both of us staring at each other, my father spoke one more word to me “Get out of my sight now!”

And so I did what I was told to do, I got out of his sight.