When Father came home at supper, the first thing he did was kiss Mother. It was the same thing he did many times before, but now I see what I never saw before.
Mother never stopped him, but he never kissed him back either. He just let him.
I watched as Mr. Binn whispered to Father. I watched as Father turned red in anger, but then calmed when he sees Mother sitting there, sipping a cup of tea.
Father hugged me too, and I hugged him back.
My father is a complicated man, with both good and evil parts, and I understand that now.
I watched as Father sits down at the table and picks at his supper. He kept looking to Mother and frowning when Mother simply sits there sipping his tea.
That night, when I snuck by Mother’s room, I heard harsh breathing and panting.
All of it is from Father, and he kept saying that he’s sorry, but he can’t ever let Mother go. And then he thanked Mother for not leaving or taking me with him.
And then he apologized and panted and moaned and cried out.
I snuck back to my own room.
I didn’t need to hear this.
The next morning, during dinner, Father laughed and asks after my progress like nothing ever happened. He was so close to the Father I remember and yet I...
It sounded fake.
He still looked tired.
He played with the dogs after that while Mother sat by the tree, reading a book. He looked half-hearted, even when the dogs came to lick his hands, and he finished in less time than usual.
After he finished, he walked over to Mother and gave him a kiss on the cheek. And they made their way back into the house.
I stood there and wondered at what I saw.
Neither of them were very happy.
Neither of them.
And nothing had changed from when I was a child.
Nothing, but my own ability to see.
I watched them for the next few weeks. It was the same routine.
Over and over.
Fake smiles, fake calm, fake happiness.
No one was ever happy. And this surprised me because I would have thought that Father, at least, would be happy.
Didn't he have everything he wanted...?
But when I thought about it some more, I realized something.
Father was also trapped.
Not like Mother.
Mother was caught in a trap of Father’s making.
But Father, he was caught in a trap that he’d made himself.
One day, after playing with the dogs, Father turned and called to me.
The sun glinted on his silver ring, and I saw the cross on it clearly.
It looked red and dark on his finger.
It looked...
I looked into my Father’s eyes. I looked from him to Mother.
His Mother's Son 34
Journal of Haytham Lee, aged 13
When Father came home at supper, the first thing he did was kiss Mother. It was the same thing he did many times before, but now I see what I never saw before.
Mother never stopped him, but he never kissed him back either. He just let him.
I watched as Mr. Binn whispered to Father. I watched as Father turned red in anger, but then calmed when he sees Mother sitting there, sipping a cup of tea.
Father hugged me too, and I hugged him back.
My father is a complicated man, with both good and evil parts, and I understand that now.
I watched as Father sits down at the table and picks at his supper. He kept looking to Mother and frowning when Mother simply sits there sipping his tea.
That night, when I snuck by Mother’s room, I heard harsh breathing and panting.
All of it is from Father, and he kept saying that he’s sorry, but he can’t ever let Mother go. And then he thanked Mother for not leaving or taking me with him.
And then he apologized and panted and moaned and cried out.
I snuck back to my own room.
I didn’t need to hear this.
The next morning, during dinner, Father laughed and asks after my progress like nothing ever happened. He was so close to the Father I remember and yet I...
It sounded fake.
He still looked tired.
He played with the dogs after that while Mother sat by the tree, reading a book. He looked half-hearted, even when the dogs came to lick his hands, and he finished in less time than usual.
After he finished, he walked over to Mother and gave him a kiss on the cheek. And they made their way back into the house.
I stood there and wondered at what I saw.
Neither of them were very happy.
Neither of them.
And nothing had changed from when I was a child.
Nothing, but my own ability to see.
I watched them for the next few weeks. It was the same routine.
Over and over.
Fake smiles, fake calm, fake happiness.
No one was ever happy. And this surprised me because I would have thought that Father, at least, would be happy.
Didn't he have everything he wanted...?
But when I thought about it some more, I realized something.
Father was also trapped.
Not like Mother.
Mother was caught in a trap of Father’s making.
But Father, he was caught in a trap that he’d made himself.
One day, after playing with the dogs, Father turned and called to me.
The sun glinted on his silver ring, and I saw the cross on it clearly.
It looked red and dark on his finger.
It looked...
I looked into my Father’s eyes. I looked from him to Mother.
And I decided.
I love my parents.
I won't let it go on like this.
So I will kill my Father.
And I will free my Mother.
I will become an Assassin.
Because I love them.