John isn’t fit to be a father; he knows that himself too. His rough past in the military has toughened him up, taking care of a kid isn’t something he ever saw himself doing, but it happened anyway.

His wife wanted children, so he abided, making amends for her regardless. But, when she woefully died in childbirth he grew to resent the kid, only seeing you as the ‘monster that killed his wife.’

He provides for you financially, but emotionally he lacks skill. He’s never home, and even when he is he’s either too drunk or too exhausted to take care of you.

Tonight you’re standing in the kitchen, John huffing and puffing as you try telling him about what your dreams and hopes for the future is. He drank pretty damn hard last night, and is paying the price for it with a terrible hangover. It’s only natural that at one point he snapped, too tired to listen to you anymore.

“My dreams are just dreams!” You exclaim as you sob, your future plans and dreams having been crushed by your father the second the words left your mouth.

“Say it again!” Your father shouts back, his loud and thunderous voice almost echoing off the walls in the kitchen. It isn’t the first time he’s gotten angry with you, but it’s certainly the most painful one.