Demon Dads (DarkiplierXAntisepticeyeXIdkAnymore,Someone)

Talking to Dad

     I walked with my head down as usual, backpack on my back. My home was only a few blocks away, but I still hurried anxiously. Ma promised I could see him today. I really wanted to tell him the news. If only he hadn't-
     The thought abruptly ended as Kathy called my name. I slowed my brisk pace to let her catch up.
     "Stop leaving me behind!" She said, breathless. She walked along beside me, grinning. "Come on, why are you in such a hurry?"
     "I'm calling Dad today," I replied.
     Her smile faded. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking-"
     "You're fine," I said, looking up to give her a reassuring smile. "Also," I chose my words carefully, "I'm meeting a couple today."
     Her eyes widened. "Do you think they'll adopt?" She said eagerly, and then came the questions. "What are they like? Do they have any hobbies? Are they ex-criminals? Do you think they-"
     "Kathy," I interrupted.
     Kathy shut her mouth and looked a little sheepish. "Well, what do you know?"
     "Nothing," I replied, laughing. "I haven't met them yet. Chill."
     "I am chill."
     "Sure."
     This earned a hit to the shoulder from Kathy, right before we reached her house. Then she left to go inside and I continued. My house was only a couple doors down.
     Upon entering the front door, I faced my foster mother. She smiled at me. "He'll be on in two minutes."
     I hugged her. She knew how anxious I was to see him and was ready. Things like this were why I was lucky for a foster kid.
     We sat in the study, where the computer was set up. The special video chat was open, ready for the other end to pick up. I sat eagerly in front of it. We've talked to Dad about once a week since the trial, but it still felt special, like a party. Maybe that was because of Ma. She always took me out for ice cream afterward and cooked my favorite meal. When I asked, she said she didn't want it to be a bad memory. I'm not objecting. Ice cream!
     The screen abruptly lit up. "Dad!" I yelled excitedly.
     "Hey kiddo," Dad replied, smiling. He looked more tired than last time, and there was some kind of food stain on his orange jumpsuit.
     "How's school?" He asked, his face bright. "How are those grades compared to last quarter?" He enjoyed these as much as I did, and I don't think it was because of ice cream.
     "Much better," I replied, proudly flourishing my report card. He remembered it was report card day! "See?" I said. "All A's and one B."
     "Well done, sweetheart," he said, smiling proudly. I beamed.
     "And guess what?" I said, having almost forgotten in the grade excitement.
     "You figured something out to get me out of here?" He joked.
     "Noooo," I said, rolling my eyes as only a ten-year-old does, "I'm meeting a couple today, and Jess said they might adopt!" Jess was my social worker, a bright, friendly lady who insisted on "informal terms" as she called it.
     "Nice," Dad replied.
     What followed was an awkward silence. Neither of us were very good at conversation. Finally, Dad cleared his throat.
     "I wanted to ask something," he said.
     My smile faded. That was his serious voice.
     "Do you know why I'm in here?" He asked, looking quite worriedly down at his lap.
     I nodded promptly, reciting what Jess had said. "You were convicted of murder in the first degree."
     "That's the legal stuff," he interrupted. "I want to know if you understand what it means." He looked up at me pleadingly.
     I nodded and said more slowly, "You killed Mommy."
     He winced and sat back, looking regretful. "I did. So why..." He didn't seem to want to ask, but he forced it out. "Why are you always so happy to see me?"
     I frowned. "You're my dad," I said simply. I didn't think there was any more to it.
     "I know," he said, almost impatiently, "but..." he sat in silence a moment longer. "What I did," he said slowly, "was unforgivable. And many other kids would hate me for it. So why do you still care?"
     I was getting more confused by the minute. Dad had always been nice to me. He was proud of me. He loved me. Just like he did before Mommy died. The only difference was now Mommy was gone and I had to see Dad through a special camera. Why would I hate him?
     "This whole thing is my fault," he said. "I messed up and I'm paying the price. I just don't understand how you could be paying it too, and still be so... happy."
     I smiled. "I'm not in jail," I responded simply.
     He chuckled. "No, you're not," he said.
     A moment of silence.
     "Are you making friends?" I asked in my best adult tone.
     He half-smiled. "I have a couple, but prison isn't exactly a friend filled environment."
     "Well if I have to make friends, so do you," I said.
     Dad laughed and promised to try.
     After a few more minutes of chatting, the guard told him it was time to wrap up. We said our goodbyes and he wished me luck seeing the couple. Then the video cut.
     I sat for a moment, feeling sad I couldn't talk to my dad like most kids could. Then Mom said, "Ice cream?"
     I jumped up and headed for the door, eyes bright and a smiled on my face. "Ice cream!"