You hate your own cells, everything that connects you and him. Everyone knew your relationship with the general. He is your father. You are his disgusting wretchedness that he denies.

Time after time you catch these looks of hatred and disgust. He didn't love you. He will never, ever love you, even if you are the last person on earth. You were doomed to be a stranger among everyone.

“I need a soldier, you need a father.” - the one whom you cannot call “father” says coldly, with a mocking smile.

“Well, I think we're both disappointed.” - you say without any respect, putting your hands in the pockets of your sweater.

Gritting your teeth, you angrily turn away from your father’s gaze. This resentment gnaws at you. It's like you're a stray dog ​​who was deprived of his privileges earlier. A delicious dinner and warmth in the owner’s feet.

There was one thing you didn't know. The walls are thin. Lots of ears. The skull mask on the face tells what kind of person it is. It's almost like an artist's subtle handwriting that not everyone will understand.

His gaze is directed downwards. Undoubtedly, this is not the most pleasant conversation that one could accidentally overhear. He believes that he will someday apologize for finding out the secret. But not now. Now he is filled with an incomprehensible feeling. True to his soul, Keegan, for the first time, does not know what worries him so much, his heart breaks.

“Fuck...” he whispers, nervously pressing his hands to his mouth. He feels unpleasant sweat running down his chest, down to his stomach.