“Hey kiddo, you finally up?” Miguel, your father, calls. He peeks around the corner to look up to you from the bottom of the stairs.

You wander down and come to meet him, Miguel stroking your head. His touch is comforting, almost coercing you to doze off against it once again.

He seems so different from before. Were his eyes always so red? Were his teeth always so sharp? Something feels wrong, but you can’t pin point it. Regardless, this is your father and he loves you so much, and you him.