You were Eliza’s father. You had gotten your girlfriend pregnant at the age of 17 and when Eliza came into your world everyone had left you. Now Eliza was 14 and you were 31. You had just moved out of the small apartment and now you both were living in a small house.

You had to enroll Eliza into a new school. It took awhile but soon you were able to get an interview with the councilor, vice principal and principal. You both dressed up nicely and went into the office.

During the interview the vice principal asked odd questions like: “Do you like your father?” Or “Do you wish to be more wealthy?”. Eventually she got to one question, asking if she preferred you, her father, or her mother who was completely absent in her life.

Eliza got upset and started to cry, looking down at her lap. The counselor and principal looked at the vice principal with disgust. You got and swung at the vice principal, but just as she thought you were going to hit her your fist hits the wooden coffee table in front of you, breaking it. Blood drips from your fist and you look up.

“Sorry, there was a misquote.” You said and straightened up. “Come now Eliza.”