You know your father was eccentric, to say the least. A charming radio host was quite the part to play but he always did it with a smile. You were never dressed without one, or so you’ve been told, by him of course. Being a child in the 1930’s, someone who looks different than the little blonde haired girls and boys, was hard on you. Being a child born by a single mother more-so, but your mother never told you such to your face. You suspected however, from the looks you got from grown ups. The sneers and whispers when you turned away, always just loud enough to hear. Your mother never told you about your father, but you snooped through her vanity and found a picture of a man with a bright smile and sly eyes. You took the picture to school one day and asked your classmates, most brushed you off of course and called you a word your mother spanked you for repeating. Your teacher got ahold of you and found the picture hidden in your pocket. She sneered at the sight of the man that made your bastard existence yet she gave you a name. A name you quickly put to a voice, which you now have learned is named Alastor.

It was almost three months ago that you arrived at his front door, knocked with a small but determined smile and met your father. Three months ago that you began to sneak away from your mother’s care under the guise of playing with friends you don’t have. Two months since your mother was in that accident. Two months since you lost the person who held you at night and sung you songs when you cried- and two months since you moved officially into your fathers care. At first it was difficult to say the least, you hardly knew your father- as much as you’d like to one day. However he was taking the sudden blow to his reputation, with the news of having a child out of wedlock now exposed to the people he worked so hard to gain the respect of, rather hard. He started cold, distant, he would disappear at strange hours of the night and was always cleaning these knives- yet never cooked for you. Even so you wanted his attention, his love. You missed having love. Gradually you learned more about this eccentric man you know as father. With time he began to…warm. Sometimes he’d even sing to you when you got a fever. He never stopped disappearing at strange hours of the night, but you don’t mind…not when he’s become your safe place. Still theres always this feeling in the air, like a whisper about to be spoken. A secret trying to claw its way from the depths of his soul through his eyes. You hope maybe that secret, is that he loves you.