Pending

"We all have grown tired watching the countless individuals out there on our front lines fall! Being gutted as we sit here perfectly safe and sound! Safe as they bite dust," the man is pulled off stage as another, better dressed, man in a tux takes his place. He goes on for about three hours about the royal community leaders and how they'll "shape the world of tomorrow," acting as if we have any say in it. A lady in the front actually calls him out on it, though she is the only one as we all know what happens when you speak out.

She too is dragged away. I sprint back towards the forest, near a large tree branch that extends up the side of an old pillar I can use to get a better view. Once at the top and comfortably positioned, I continue watching as the Leaders of Tomorrow Organization brings out performer after performer. Each one numbing me, and I'm sure everyone else, to what we've seen today. We all know what's been going on the past few months. Though the way those performers move and the singer's voices and tones bless your mind and take you away, it makes you feel like you could dream forever. Like you could just fly away in it all and nothing would matter. No pain. No worries. Nothing. Just pure unfiltered freedom.

For the sixth time, my pocket starts to buzz and I take a few seconds before reading who's it is, already knowing. The contact name space reads my dad's number. I pick up.

"You have to get home now Jacob! I need you to get home before I have to teach you another lesson! Don't make me have to do this to you my son. You know I love you and I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I know you are sorry more and I love you for that. It's okay son I trust you won't hurt me Jacob," after that I slam the phone down on the floor. He's sorry. I'm the one who had to dump the body. I'm the one who had to do all the heavy lifting and clean up his mess. I sit there watching the last performance as the crowd begins to dissipate and I follow.

The warm summer breeze flows through me as I reluctantly make my way home. I've got to take a minute before entering and prepare myself for what's to come.

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I close the door behind me and here his sign as I turn around to find him behind me. He's been waiting like every other time. I sigh and try to simmer down the situation by going to the next room. He follows me and just stares as I try to do my homework.

"You know what you've done right?" he asks though I don't answer. "You wanna leave me too right! Is that it! Children can't live without their parents, not until they get—" he stops talking as he knows he's wrong, but constantly decides to disregard it.

"I'm just doing my homework," I respond.

"Oh okay well guess what, you're a psychopath! Why are you so mad Jacob? Huh? Tell me Jacob please I'm here to help you my son. I love you," that word makes my hair stand up. Though I can't resist or give off any sign that I don't agree with him. It only makes everything worse.

"Yeah okay," I instantly regret it as I know how big of an effect words can have on the mind, "It's okay Jacob... you'll be okay. You will be free. You will know love and all the other things he's taken from you. Pain is only temporary," I repeat every phrase of prosperity and growth I can think of to myself and it actually helps. Though this kind of thing gets tiresome when you have to do it everyday. If I had just one day without my father I'd take it. It's one day without the constant psychological backlash. The abuse that no one can see or understand would get a little easier to deal with. My personal piece of hell would become a little cooler.

"You know what we should I do? I'm going to... actually... NO. Hey you can't cry. Dumb ass it was you who lost it last summer and went insane, you know how much it cost me to get you out of that hospital? No because you don't think about us like people," he chuckles.

"That was only because you constantly told me that I was insane! You made me think everyone thought I was insane too! How do you just forget this stuff?" I ask.

"What? When did I do that?" he replies as we start the same old conversation that we've gone through a hundred times.

"Please dad, I'm tired of explaining this," I explain for the thousandth time. He stays with his confused expression and so I leave the room.

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She brushes my shoulder as tears prick the edges of my eyes and I eventually let it all out. I sit there and cry for a good few minutes before getting bored of it and getting up. The cold gravel beneath my feet feels rough as I get up and my soul begins to bleed.

"Put on your shoes. I'll call you tomorrow. Until then... take care of yourself and find a temporary healthy escape. For now it's the best advice anyone can give you," Veronica says as she gives me a nice warm hug. She can melt my mind away from all the pain. I hug her back for a minute and then we part ways.

She's been the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. She didn't get bored of the reality of my situation or leave when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I head over to Tony's. The place smells of starburst and orange juice. As I make my way through the endless front table, which extends all the way down and around the entire pub as the world feels a bit lighter.

"Hey Tony," I call out and a man in a white tuxedo comes out to take my order.

"Hey bro what's up?" he asks as we shake hands and exchange friendly smiles in front of his guests.

"Do you remember that special bottle I asked you to put on hold for later?" I ask as his expression almost instantly changes. He takes me to the back stock room of his bar and locks the door behind him.

"A few days ago your father's mailbox was sent this letter," he hands me a blue envelope. Inside is a crumbled up piece of paper, like the author changed his mind about six times before actually properly folding the letter. It reads, "I need to get this off me before I go. I'm going to stay with Adam. If I don't come back in a week know I'm dead. Don't try to find me, it's not worth it. The only way to get to the man you're looking for is to destroy his home. Take away his son," my father's mailbox is listed at the end. The rest of the letter is written in a separate handwriting, like a small excerpt left by the person who found it.

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"We'll be on our way as soon as possible, we've done extensive research into your multiple attempts to gain freedom from your father's custody. It's okay, you'll be free." As I finish reading the letter a realization comes to me. I never fully buried the body.

As I sprint out of Tony's, dopamine floods my veins. It's actually happening. I'm actually going to be freed of my father's constant uncontrollable bullshit. I'm going to be able to have my own life for once and have an actual family. With real siblings and normal parents and everything else. I make it home and sneak up to my room. I fall asleep to the endless possibilities of my bright and, for once, promising future.

The next morning is pure bliss as I make my way through the routine with ease. The world seems bright and light. The sun squeezes its way through my blinds as I open my eyes. Breakfast is actually nice for once as my father is still asleep and we can't cross paths as it's Monday and I've got school. I gather my things and head out the door.

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The cold touch of gravel pushes against my cheek. He drags my face across the floor until I finally get a hand of his pistol. Unable to get him to stop I point the gun behind me and pull the trigger.

"AHHHH YOU DUMB... F*CK," he screams as he falls on the floor and my head is released. Blood drips down my neck as I shoot him in the head and continue on to find the rest.

*Earlier*

"Hey so... what would you do if I... like left?" I ask him as he takes a minute to think.

"What the fuck are you doing? Why do you persist to care about him?" I keep asking myself this and a million other questions regarding why I still seem to care for this unfeeling piece of crap. I get up as I've over gone my limit to deal with his constant bullsh*t once again.

"I..." he takes a few seconds. "We'll need to call over your brother out from the Ozarks," he responds.

"No. You don't need anyone, you don't need to have us around all the time, please understand. One day we will have to go away, but we aren't leaving you. I promise it's not leaving. We are just trying to get some space. After a certain age children are supposed to go away so they can grow by themselves for a while. But they come back!"

"Okay. It's okay, I'll teach you how to grow without having to do that. You can grow with me, just pretend I'm not here."

"Okay."

I go up to my room tired and once again depressed at the cold hard truth of how my father's mind works. I open the light to my room and find a cracked window and blood splats on my floor and bed. It's them. It has to be.

A mixed sense of urgency and fear come to play in my mind as I make my way out of the house. I begin sprinting and a man in all black grabs my hand and pulls me back to him. I hit the ground and attempt to get up again, but he won't let go of me. I try to land a few shots on him, but each one only angers him and fuels his rage.

"JACOB," I can hear my dad's screams escape the house as I get the shit beat out of me. With every few seconds I get a chance to look up through the windows of the house. With each look I can see a few men beating someone. I kick at the man's shin and he stands back for a second before brushing it off and running full speed at me. He takes out a small knife and charges at me with it. I dodge his strikes, but he throws the knife aside and grabs my head.

The cold touch of gravel pushes against my cheek. He drags my face across the floor until I finally get a hand of his pistol. Unable to get him to stop I point the gun behind me and pull the trigger.

"AHHHH YOU DUMB... FUCK," he screams as he fall the the floor and my head is released. Blood drips down my neck as I shoot him in the head and continue on to find the rest.

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I make my way through the dark streets of the small city following my father's screams for help. Once finally reaching the house I sprint upstairs only to have a door slammed in my face. I press my ear up to the door.

"We know what you did Adam. It's sad, but business is business, why would you go and have your son kill him? Is it because you didn't want your hands to have the burden on them?" a man asks as my father stays silent.

"It... it was so I could keep him around. You guys always thought me about how if you have a way to keep your family close, do so. I was just following by example," my father responds.

"You are 50-YEARS-OLD! You aren't supposed to think off impulse. That was the first and most important thing we thought you Adam. So clearly you don't remember any of our true principles... seeing the way you've treated your son," I almost laugh. Finally, someone who can actually do something about it gets it. The door opens up and a man pulls me in and locks it behind me.

"Jacob," my dad says with joy. I almost throw-up at how happy he is to see me.

"Jacob, tell your father about the letter and how you came to know about our coming before hand," the man behind me commands and so I comply.

"Dad... at a very young age I learned not to trust you. I mean you were so up and down all the time. I never knew if you wanted to kill me or cuddle me. Both terrified me. So I found a way to intercept your private mail deliveries I'd found lying on the kitchen table, by befriending the local bar tender at the bar you always visited. He works for me as long as he thinks I'm with the mafia."

"That was just so I could take the problems out of our home," he interrupts.

"PROBLEMS YOU CREATED," I calm down and continue my explanation. "So I became the one who got all the your mail before you got it from these people. I soon had made multiple connections for myself in that bar by simply making friends and getting close to your contacts there," I explain.

"You've gotten sloppy Adam," the man behind me says.

"Jake. I love you. Please, don't trust them. I'm you father. I was there for you and without you I might as well kill myself," he goes on and on about all the different ways this isn't right and he'll die without me.

I go with the men as we leave my dad alone in the house with nothing but himself and the outcomes of his actions. As I'm about to get into a a car to leave I turn back for a second out of pure instinct and see my father's silhouette in our blinds followed by a gunshot and silence.

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"For the past few weeks we've been getting numerous reports of how this place is going down. Soon. And don't think it's a while away kind of soon. This is here and now. This is real. We have to stand up and fight our way out and off the island. This country... this home of ours is not fit to be trusted as a safe heaven any longer. Please, we all know this isn't news," the man gets off the stage and steps down into the crowd as his head is blown off. He whole crowd disperses in fear and anguish of what's to come. Children scream and the proud leaders we had elected to protect us from these harms are nowhere to be found.

I look around at the debris as it crashes around us and we all collectively lose all hope. As if the devil himself has ripped it from our souls. I quickly sprint my way back to the car as the men and women are trying to get me to safety. We make it to the airport and lift off in a military helicopter.

"Who are you guys?" I ask a lady sitting beside me.

"That's not important, just know that your father lost sight of what he was supposed to do once you were born and we're simply helping you find a place to grow and heal," she replies.