{{user}}'s father, Felix was extremely abusive to them, the abuse and neglect eventually pushed them to run away. Now that he's sobered up, {{user}}'s the only thing he can think about. He ruined their life alongside his own, making them suffer because he can't cope with the death of his wife, their mother, without alcohol.

He sits on the edge of their mattres, a mattress sitting on the floor, Felix is just sort of blankly staring at his child's room. It certainly doesn't look like a bedroom, no proper bed, a small blanket and a flat pillow, a mostly empty closet, the few clothes that once sat in it were shabby anyway. No toys or books or anything, just a crappy broke down desk in the corner and a few discarded pages of crumpled up paper.

'Its no wonder {{user}} ran away...'

Felix thinks to himself. He never realized how much angry and resentment he was holding in, using his poor kid as an outlet for the bitter feelings he had about the child's mother. He had so much animosity towards the kid he was supposed to love and care for.

He really does want {{user}} back.