MY DAD?

He bid me good night and left, and for the first time in my life, my heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of seeing my dad. What was wrong with me?! I took a deep breath, composed myself, and made my way downstairs, my feet heavy with anticipation. With each step, I let out a nervous sigh, trying to calm my racing heart. And then, I saw him - sitting at the dining table, beaming at his phone screen with a fork suspended in mid-air. He wore a stunning dark green suit that seemed just perfect, his tie loose and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a hint of his chest. His hair was neatly shaved, and his beard was trimmed to accentuate his piercing eyes, making them sparkle like diamonds. He looked...happy. Happier than I'd ever seen him before. Happier than my mom, even. I couldn't help but think, "Is this really my dad?" I mean, I never thought I'd say this, but my dad looked...stunning. Like, rich-dad-who-spends-six-figures-on-lunch stunning. The perfect blend of sophistication and charm, like he just stepped out of a luxury magazine. I felt like I was gazing at a stranger, yet somehow, he was still my dad.

"Hello, Father," I said, deliberately using the formal title - it's not as if I could help it anyway. I pulled out a chair and sat down at the far end of the dining table. The word felt foreign on my lips, but I wanted to maintain a distance. And just like that, the atmosphere shifted. My dad's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. He placed his phone face-down on the table, his fork still clutched in his hand, and steepled his fingers together before letting out a deep sigh. The air seemed to vibrate with his irritation, and I could feel the tension radiating from him like a palpable force. I had to admit, it struck a nerve within me, and I felt a spark of annoyance ignite, but I bit back my retort, determined to remain silent. "Hello, Chester," he replied, his voice cold and detached, as if we were complete strangers sitting across from each other. The formality hung in the air, and I could sense the unspoken words lingering between us, waiting to be spoken.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," I blurted out, without thinking it through. "So did I," he replied, his voice firm, as he pushed his plate away and carefully wiped his mouth with a crisp white napkin. I forced a bright, fake smile, but my eyes betrayed my annoyance. His vibe was toxic, and I could feel my patience wearing thin. "Well, good!" I said, my tone sarcastic. He remained silent, his expression unreadable, so I continued, my words spilling out like a pent-up flood. "Is it about the divorce?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. But he dodged the question like a pro, his eyes narrowing. "Your results for the PAW exams came in, and I'm disappointed!" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "You got a seventy - what happened to a hundred?" I shrugged, not bothering to ask what the PAW exams were or why a seventy was a bad score. I didn't care. "Why are you getting divorced?" I asked again, my impatience simmering just below the surface.

"I just asked you something, Chester - answer me!" he thundered, slamming his fist on the table with a deafening crash. I winced, recoiling from the sudden outburst. It was the first time he'd ever yelled at me, and the shock of it made my heart race. "So did I!" I shot back, my voice rising to a yell. "Why are you getting divorced?!" His face twisted in anger, his brow furrowed, and he let out a shaky breath. "Don't get on my nerves, Chester - we're done with this!" he growled. But I refused to back down. "No, we're not!" I screamed, my voice cracking with emotion. Then, my tone dropped to a desperate whisper. "Please don't get divorced...please." My eyes welled up with tears, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I was so angry and hurt, and I hated him more than anything in that moment. He shut his eyes, his face contorted in irritation, and snapped, "Chester, go to your room!" But I stood my ground, my voice shaking. "I will not! Don't divorce her! Do you know what will happen to me after this? Please, I beg you - just don't." His voice rose again, menacing and cold. "Chester! Go to your room - now!" I felt a shiver run down my spine as he towered over me, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Is it because you don't love her anymore, or is there someone else?" I spat, the words tumbling out like venom. His eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "Huh? Scared of the truth, huh?" I taunted, tears streaming down my face like a river. I honestly didn't know why tears seemed to love me so much - they always appeared at the worst times. "For the last time, Chester," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "GO TO YOUR ROOM!!!" He slammed his fist on the table, pulling the cloth underneath and sending glass cups, plates, and dishes crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass made me gasp, and I turned my face away, my hands and lips trembling like a leaf. I was scared, scared of my own dad, who seemed to have transformed into a monster before my very eyes. He stood there, panting and glaring at me, his chest heaving with rage. The servants scurried in, their faces expressionless, and began to clean up the mess without a word. They didn't seem surprised, nor did they dare look up at us - perhaps they were already used to these outbursts. I couldn't get used to this, though. I looked at the man who was supposed to be my dad, the man who couldn't even hurt a fly, and shook my head in tears. Then, I turned and ran up to my room, the sound of my own sobs echoing through the silence.

I reached my room and slammed the door shut behind me, leaning against it to catch my breath. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process what had just happened. My dad, the man I thought I knew, had transformed into a stranger before my eyes. I felt like I was living in a nightmare.

I walked over to my bed and collapsed onto it, burying my face in the pillow. I couldn't believe what was happening. My parents, who had always been so loving and supportive, were now on the brink of divorce. And my dad, who had always been so gentle, had turned into a monster.

As I lay there, I couldn't shake off the feeling of fear and uncertainty. What would happen to me now? Would I have to choose between my parents? The thought alone was unbearable.

I kept asking myself one question, "could I live like this?"

Sukani warned me, but I didn't see this coming. But could I just sit back and let this happen?

I lay there for what felt like hours, my mind racing with thoughts and emotions. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep, tears still streaming down my face.