Dad, Please Help Me
A flash fiction piece I wrote, largely based on a terrifying dream I had.
Deep in a box, I stored you. A blanket draped over the top, tucked securely under my bed. This box and blanket combination was meant to soothe you, to keep you safe. It was all I had to offer at the time. But now it’s a source of shame. I ignore your box like my life depends on it, guarding it at all times to make sure nobody sees what I have killed and hidden from the world. Every once in a while, when I get the courage, I’ll peel back the blanket to look at the youth I stored there. The hope, dreams, love, and light that used to be so strong it paralyzed me. All I’m faced with is the rotting smell of failed endeavors and bugs eating through what I once loved. Still, I won’t throw you out. I made my choices to nurture you and keep you safe, and that is a decision I cannot undo myself.