Letters to Dad

Hey Dad,

I hope you're doing well. I'm sorry I haven't visited you recently. I have some things to tell you though, and I think it's best I put them in these letters. It hurts too much to say them in person, so I hope these will suffice.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Everything was so... traumatic. It was the start of the rift between us. The first time I really questioned you, my dad. The first time I didn't want to be like you. I remember I cried that day. I ran to mom as soon as she got home. You and her got in a big fight that day. You left for a while after that. I was so confused and lost. Why did you do that to me? I'm still lost and confused actually, I think. I still remember the pain it caused me. I still feel those moments. But it was just the beginning...

"Hey, Aldur! Daddy has a special surprise for you for your fifth birthday!" You chimed at me. My birthday was in three days, and it was to be a special occasion, according to you. I didn't know what I was in for at the time. I was just so excited for my birthday surprise. A new toy? Another dagger? A special day out? I didn't really care what it was as long as I got to spend my day with you. Well, I didn't care until I found out what it was anyway. You hyped up the day for months. You were so excited to show it to me, and I was so excited to receive it.  

"What is it, Daddy? What is the surprise?!" I begged for you to tell me early. But you kept quiet. I wish you hadn't.

"Not until your birthday, Aldur! Patience is key. You need to be patient if you want to become the king some day, don't you?" You instructed me. "If I want to be king some day." I think about that every day.

I remember I crossed my arms in frustration at you. "I want to be king now, Daddy! I want my surprise now, Daddy!" I whined at you. I was such a spoiled child. So entitled to think it's ok to be so greedy, so... discontent with my life.

You laughed at me like everything was fine. "In due time, Aldur. In due time." You tried to dismiss my pleas and my cries as if they were nothing but empty words. I guess they were though, weren't they?

I wanted to be king so bad. I don't understand why now. I should have seen the corruption, even at such a young age. But I didn't. I saw it that day though. That fateful day you decided to share... "the family business."

How could you do that Dad? How could you think it was ok to show me that? Especially at such a young age? Did you want me to take over? Did you want me to continue your sick line of work? I never thought about where you got your money from before then. You weren't a king to me, you were just my Dad. But after that... you still weren't a king. You were a tyrant. A disgusting ruler.

Tears hit the letter. Ink begins to run as they wet and stain the paper. The emotions that he feels begin to overwhelm Aldur and he can't hold back any longer. His chair flies back as he jumps out of it  and throws his feather pen towards the desk. It crashes into the wood but due to the soft well kept feather on the end, it doesn't break. He grabs the paper violently with clenched fists. He begins to tear it when he sees a pile of crumpled balls in the corner of the room. All his other failed attempts at writing this letter. He stops what he's doing and holds the paper ever so tautly between his hands. A small tear beginning to form at the top of the piece of parchment. 

He slams it back on the table in a fit of uncomfortable emotion. 

"Fuck you, Dad," he grits through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath, "Ok, Aldur. Calm down. Calm down." Aldur tries to breathe out his rage with some succession. Eventually he sits down and grabs his pen and begins to write once more, looking to wrap up the letter before he tears it up. 

I don't understand you, Dad. You have always asked me why I'm so distant. You never stopped to consider why though. You never stopped to think. I hope you understand now though. I hope you can see the trauma you've put me through. The pain you've inflicted on me through your stupid selfish actions. 

With.... best...

"Fuck. How do I end this?" Aldur thought to himself. He grips his pen tightly as he toils it over in his head. "I don't want to say love. I don't... I... I don't know. I don't want to end it with love though." He finally thinks of how to end the letter. He furiously scribbles out what he already wrote and writes the ending to the letter.

Your son, Aldur.

Aldur sighs deeply at the close of the letter. It is the end of a lot of pain and trauma, all wrapped up into one short letter. A letter to his father. He rereads the letter for spelling mistakes and overall readability. His father taught him to write well. Well,, as well as Rychester could write himself anyways. Tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes, but he wipes them away before they can flow. It's not easy to read back all of the harsh words directed towards the one who raised him, even though it wasn't ideal. 

Once he's done reading it over he folds it up and seals it with a spot of sticky sap. He waits for it to dry before depositing it into a leather folder hanging off the side of his table. Attatched on the side of the folder with a drop of dry sap is a strip of parchment. Written on the parchment are the words "Letters to Dad".