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Prompt Thirteen: Bad to Worse Prompt Thirteen: Bad to Worse: Word count 673
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Later in the evening, after saying goodbye to David, Sej made it home completely sober for the first time in weeks. He warmed up some stew, and took it to his study. The cozy room was his true home. The rest of the house, aside from his bedroom, saw little use. He frowned at the decanter on a table, but didn't go near it. He had other priorities. His muse right now wasn't blurry!
He set the tray of food down, and settled into his writing chair. The last few days had been crazy, in both good and bad ways. He knew there was inspiration for a story in there somewhere. He considered the day of his date. It had been a really bad day. But he had led to realisation of his problem, and led immediately into a great day. So had it truly been so bad? He reflected on the day four years ago which had easily been the worst in his life. Was there some good he'd missed there too? Ever since, he'd shied from the memory, it hurt too much to dwell on. His muse though was urging him. Perhaps it was time.
Any time the memory sneaked up on him, it always began with his father's last words. Whilst the stew went cold, Sej braced himself and let the memory wash over him.
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"I have no son."
The wheezing voice finished with a feeble cough, and was silent. Sej sobbed into the bedclothes where his father had wasted away for the last eight months. Some sickness of the heart, the doctor had said. The room was dark, thick curtains keeping out the daylight that had mocked his father. Sej grasped his father's hand, willing him to come back and take back the words.
The day had begun like every other for the last fortnight. The doctor had said then it would be soon, and the vigil had begun. Two weeks of hearing stories from his Dad's life. Some uplifting, some warm, most about his regrets and disappointments. Sej slept on a cot near the door of the bedroom. A nurse came in several times a day with food for him, and to assist his father as needed. There was no other family. No one else to be with him, so despite his feelings for his only child, Sej was there.
Through it all, Sej had been stoic. He'd not risen to the barbs and criticisms like he had so often before. Their arguments in the past were legendary, but somehow, in his father's dying days, he'd found the strength to resist them. Or perhaps he simply didn't have the strength any more to argue.
This too was noted, and made it on the list of criticisms. He was weak, pathetic. What kind of man doesn't stand up for himself. Despite it all though, his father never once prevented Sej from holding his hand. Sej held to this fact as a drowning man does to a life raft. Somewhere deep inside his father did love him, did respect him. Eventually the stories would reflect this, if he just listened long enough.
On the day, the stories continued in the same vein. His stupid love for books, when he should have been outside playing like normal boys. His hopeless abilities at sports. His failed attempts at an early love life.
"I don't know why you bothered anyway. Someone so pathetic ain't going to find nobody. Don't deserve to either."
Something inside Sej snapped. He was many things, and far from perfect. But wishing someone to never find love, saying they don't deserve it. He broke, and he shouted back. He shouted about many things. His father retorted, just as strongly.
"Well now I know why mum left you, you disgusting, bitter old man." He'd screamed.
His father suddenly deflated, like a balloon let go. He looked away, said those last words, and died.
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Sej snapped out of the memory, threw the congealing bowl of stew across the room, and cried until the tears wouldn't come any more.
His muse blurred once more. |
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