(Please tell me your opinion on my story and be truthful please!)
“Erik get down here now!” My father yelled.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hurried down the stairs. I learned in the last 17 years I’ve been alive, that if my dad calls me I need to be down fast…or else…
I got down the stairs, and went into the living room where he always sat on his days off. “Yes, dad? What can I get you?”
My mother smiled up at me from her book, “You are such a good son, Erik-“
My dad interrupted her, “Don’t make him feel better he should feel bad!” He looked up at me glaring, “Erik, I have seen your grades lately and you’re in football, right?”
“Yes… I am… I’m sorry they’re dropping I’ll try to get them up.” I stood with my hands behind my back. The fact my dad had to ask me if I was in football made me think I was lucky he knew my name. My mom always tells me I am such a good boy and my dad does love me, he’s just been “stressed” lately.
“Well we’ve already had this conversation before and you said the exact same thing; and I’m getting tired of being lied to. I think I’ll have the coach pull you out of football until you get your grades up.”
My mother looked at him, “Richard, don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” My mother always stood up for me but takes my dad side in the end.
“No, Marsha, I don’t think it’s harsh at all. I think it’s fair. He should learn how to get his act up to the way I want them to be. This is not up for discussion-“
“But dad, I’m in stochastic calculus, chemistry, A.P. U.S. History-“
“I understand they can be kind of hard-“
“No, I don’t think you understand dad. I can hardly pass them and you want A’s! I can’t get you them! It’s hard! I’m just not that smart-“
My dad stood up, and got in my face, “I was in war. That wasn’t a piggy back ride. People died and I had to try my hardest every damn time I went out in the field,” He pushed me back, “I watched people die,” He pushed me again, “And you think you grades are hard!? HUH!?” he shoved me into the wall, “Try living with yourself after you killed so many people! 238 and more people I killed!” He decked me in the face hard.
“Richard!” I heard my mother yell, but it didn’t matter to my dad. He was too busy beating up his own son.
My dad kneed me in the stomach twice, “You think school is hard,” He threw me to the ground, “Well trying living like me. Now go to your room.” I got up, and ran upstairs as fast as I could. I slammed my bedroom door, and looked in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked so much like him… I can’t be like him… please I just can’t…
“Erik get down here now!” My father yelled.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hurried down the stairs. I learned in the last 17 years I’ve been alive, that if my dad calls me I need to be down fast…or else…
I got down the stairs, and went into the living room where he always sat on his days off. “Yes, dad? What can I get you?”
My mother smiled up at me from her book, “You are such a good son, Erik-“
My dad interrupted her, “Don’t make him feel better he should feel bad!” He looked up at me glaring, “Erik, I have seen your grades lately and you’re in football, right?”
“Yes… I am… I’m sorry they’re dropping I’ll try to get them up.” I stood with my hands behind my back. The fact my dad had to ask me if I was in football made me think I was lucky he knew my name. My mom always tells me I am such a good boy and my dad does love me, he’s just been “stressed” lately.
“Well we’ve already had this conversation before and you said the exact same thing; and I’m getting tired of being lied to. I think I’ll have the coach pull you out of football until you get your grades up.”
My mother looked at him, “Richard, don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” My mother always stood up for me but takes my dad side in the end.
“No, Marsha, I don’t think it’s harsh at all. I think it’s fair. He should learn how to get his act up to the way I want them to be. This is not up for discussion-“
“But dad, I’m in stochastic calculus, chemistry, A.P. U.S. History-“
“I understand they can be kind of hard-“
“No, I don’t think you understand dad. I can hardly pass them and you want A’s! I can’t get you them! It’s hard! I’m just not that smart-“
My dad stood up, and got in my face, “I was in war. That wasn’t a piggy back ride. People died and I had to try my hardest every damn time I went out in the field,” He pushed me back, “I watched people die,” He pushed me again, “And you think you grades are hard!? HUH!?” he shoved me into the wall, “Try living with yourself after you killed so many people! 238 and more people I killed!” He decked me in the face hard.
“Richard!” I heard my mother yell, but it didn’t matter to my dad. He was too busy beating up his own son.
My dad kneed me in the stomach twice, “You think school is hard,” He threw me to the ground, “Well trying living like me. Now go to your room.” I got up, and ran upstairs as fast as I could. I slammed my bedroom door, and looked in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked so much like him… I can’t be like him… please I just can’t…
I thought it would be a good idea to try and write goodbye
but i was stuck when I realized there were too many lovely things to write about.
and not enough words invented yet to say them aloud.
and i know there are a number of things wrong with this,
but i really don't want to fix it right now.
i don't feel like doing anything but sitting upside down
but trust me, when it comes down
to having the choice of being right..
or protecting you, I'll be wrong every single time.
Because it's just who I am...
but i was stuck when I realized there were too many lovely things to write about.
and not enough words invented yet to say them aloud.
and i know there are a number of things wrong with this,
but i really don't want to fix it right now.
i don't feel like doing anything but sitting upside down
but trust me, when it comes down
to having the choice of being right..
or protecting you, I'll be wrong every single time.
Because it's just who I am...