When he was ten years old, he sat on his front porch, listening to his parent's yell. He hadn't seen his daddy in almost a year, so why were they fighting. He covered his ears, waiting for the yelling to end when he saw his father walking toward his car. The little boy ran toward him, arms stretched out wide.663Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJlUyHiMsQG
"Daddy, don't go," he called through his tears as he watched his father slam the door and drive away. Even when the car was out of sight, he stared after the place it had gone, whispering, "I love you Daddy. Don't you love me to?"
Three years past, three years without his father when he gets the news a week before his forteenth birthday that his father had died. He wore black, gathered with family and the church, and looked down over his father's still body.
"Damn you daddy," he choked out through the sobs. The old man didn't blink, he was too far gone to hear the words his son had to say, until the little boy's cries for his daddy began to slow. He heard a voice from somewhere up above calling his name, so he looked up.663Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡirs5EbuHcK
Above him was the stain glass window showing the crusifiction of Jesus. The boy bowed his head, he felt so ashamed. "Forgive me, Father," he whispered, bowing his head in prayer. For the first time, he realized that he had never been alone, ever been fatherless.
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Author's note:So it's really short but have a lot going on right now
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