Silent cries fill the chapel as his hands pull on his hair.
"Make me happy." He cries looking up at the man before him, "No matter what I do, or who I'm with..." He trails wiping the tears that fall down his cheeks, "I'm never happy."
"Harry. As your father it is my job to do anything and everything in my power to make and keep you happy but,"
"My father?" The young boy spat, he wiped his cheeks once more before standing on his two feet, "Ever since I was born you have been the one to always put me down. 'You can't do that Harry. you can't come to the wedding if you don't stop.' you wouldn't let me go to your own fucking wedding because of the state I was. Jesus dad, you really know how to make me feel great about myself. Why are you here? why do you keep following me everywhere I go? is it because I'm not capable to be on my own. was it my counsellor that sent you to spy on me? I'm your fucking son dad, the leased you could do is trust me."
"The leased I could do? Harry, the last time I let you go out alone you ended up getting arrested so don't you dare expect me to trust you. I took money out of our savings account just to get you out of jail and here you are, asking me to trust you." His father laughed grabbing his son my the arm, forcing him out of the chapel.
"Don't you fucking touch me." Harry's voice cracked as he grabbed the cigarette that was sitting behind his ear while walking in the opposite direction.
"Hey Harry." His father called, "don't expect me to pick you up the next time you end up in jail."
