Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26444017-20190103071325

A word of warning; I'm typing this on my phone. My computer is currently dead, so this is my only option. Apologies.

"So, why don't we start by figuring out what brought you here."

"Just to make sure, all of this is confidential, right?"

"Right. I can't tell a soul."

"Alright. Then I guess the reason is... I hate myself, and I want to be better."

"Why do you hate yourself?"

"I didn't exactly have a normal upbringing. Pretty much every memory I have goes the same way. I would come home from school with a bad grade and a teacher's note for my parents telling them about the fight I started. I always had to dodge the broken step leading up to the porch. Sometimes I had to catch myself on the rotting beam that barely held up the roof.

"The door would creak open, and the stink would waft out. Old beer, shit, and piss. We never had any pets in the house, so I guess it came from the rats and raccoons that wandered through. And there he'd be, sitting in his chair, beer can in hand. I'd try to sneak by, but he always heard me. I gave up pleading with him a long time ago."

"He hit you?"

"Yeah. As drunk as he was, he was always really careful. My teachers never found the bruises. If I weren't so afraid of him, I would have told someone."

"Where was your mother when all of this was happening?"

"High, or passed out if I got home late. I don't know if she knew what was going on or not."

"What sort of drugs did she use?"

"Heroin, I think. I remember a lot of needles around the house."

"A drunk, abusive father and an absent, drug-addicted mother certainly make for a horrific childhood. I think it'd be best to--"

"That's... not the end of it."

"There's more to this?"

"I think my dad felt bad about hurting me. Once he started to sober up, he would come into my room to apologize. And then he... wouldn't leave."

"What do you mean?"

"..."

"Oh. I understand."

"I tried so hard to forget about everything. I started drinking when I was twelve. I had a few older friends that helped me out with that. They had no idea why I needed it so bad. I haven't told anyone any of this until now, not even my wife."

"Well, if you want, I can help you get a restraining order against your parents."

"There's no need. They both died a few years ago, just after my son was born."

"Oh, I see. How did they die, if I may ask?"

"I'm not sure that our confidentiality extends that far. I have to plead the fifth on this one."

"I-I..."

"..."

"So, if they're dead, then what prompted you to come here?"

"I realized that I have a great deal in common with my father." 