"Liam." I say grabbing his attention. He looks up at me with a emotion flooded in his eyes. I sit down across from him, not really knowing what to say or do, which was a first with him.
"Did they tell you what happened?" I ask softly, fiddling with my fingers.
"Yeah." He says. He swallows before continuing. "They did, and they took my dad away."
"Liam, he did some-"
"I know." He said solemnly. "He killed your mom and he tried to kill you to. And I hate him for that. But he's my dad. And I don't want to see him locked up."
"He did terrible things." I mutter. "He can't get away with something like-"
"He's sick, Andi. And he hasn't been taking his medicine, which is why he's been acting out and-"
"You have no idea the the pain he's caused." I tell him in disbelief. "If it weren't for the police, I would be dead right now, and not because of your dad, but because of me." I pause before continuing, not sure if I wanted to tell him the truth. "I wanted to kill myself last night, and if the police came 20 minutes after they did, they'd find me dead." I was done being scared of telling the truth.
"Andi," Liam whispers as I see the concern and regret grow in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I am, but would you want to see your parent locked up?"
"Would you want to see your parent dead?" I say with tears in my eyes. "I hate your father, and I always will." I stand up realizing that this was a mistake. Coming here and not cutting all ties.
"I do too." He says after he stand up. "I hate that he's the one that caused you all this pain and hurt and anxiety. But he's still my dad, and just like how you'll always hate him, he'll always be my dad." Liam says.
I stare into his eyes not knowing how to feel. Not really knowing what to say.
"Are you ok?" Liam then asks after a long pause. The question seemed stupid, but no one has really asked me. They've just assumed that I wasn't, and they weren't wrong.
I shake my head slightly. "Never was." I mumble, as my vision becomes blurry once again. It's funny how I see the world through tears more often than not.
"If I could take it all back, I would." He then said as he squeezed his arms around me. I feel him rest his chin on my head.
It was ironic how safe I felt at that moment. I felt so safe in the son of a killers arms. I never wanted to leave this spot.
Despite those feelings I detach myself from him, wiping the stray tear that stained down my face.
"I have to go." I tell him. "I'll be fine, but please don't call or text or show up at my door." I had to force those words out of my mouth.
But it was for the best. Keeping in touch with him only meant making a messy mess messier. His dad was insane and their was no way of fixing it.
You just simply can't silence an unsound mind. It's impossible.
