"How would you like to go to a ball game? Just you and your pop? Some good ol' father and son time? Some great and wonderful bonding time?" he asked me. I looked at him with bewilderment. I looked at him with puzzlement. I looked at him with disgust, hatred, and with all the possible unlikable emotions you would associate with a person.

        "Why do you care, you old fogey?" I scoffed.

        "Can't I want to spend time with my son?" he asked.

        "Again. Why. Do. You. Care?"

        "Why shouldn't I? I am your father."

        "Yeah, okay. Some father you are."

        "What is that supposed to mean?"

        "Don't get me started. I'll get all worked up, and go on a long spiel, and you won't care anyway."

        "Come on. Tell me."

        "No. If I go with you, will you stop bugging me?" I asked.

        "Sure. Tomorrow, we go. I got two tickets to the New York Yankees game. Best seats in the house, or so I'm told," he said with a smile.

        "Oh wow. Rich and famous get the best seats. How impressive. Is it wheelchair accessible?" I asked, rolling my eyes. He just wheeled away. I went back to my phone.

        <Sorry I took so long. My dad wanted to talk.>

        <What did he want?>

        <Something about a baseball game. Trying to make up for lost time or something like that. Before he dies I guess.>

        <Oh boy. Some real Cat in the Cradle stuff huh? Do you want me to go with you?>

        <I wish. He only bought two tickets though. Maybe I can steal his ticket and just go with you. Do you even like baseball?>

        <No, but I wouldn't mind spending time with you.>

        <Me too, I wish you didn't live too far away. I hate that he made me move all the way back home from boarding school. Just because he is dying doesn't mean he has to kill my social life or my relationship.>

        <I still love you even while you are so far away.>

        <I love you too.>

        <You should still go with him. Give him a shot. I know you secretly want to go.>

        <I will since you say so.> I put my phone back in my pocket. She was right. She was usually right. As much as I hated it, as much as I wanted to say it wasn't so, a small part of me wanted to forgive him. I never really saw him. He never acknowledged me. I let him do his own thing, and he let me do my own. I got an allowance, and a good education, so I didn't care.

        That didn't change what he does to my mom. That didn't mean I couldn't see the excess makeup. That didn't reverse the late night tears. That didn't express the true nature of our home. What it did do was make me hate him. What it did do was make me want to stay away from home. What it did do was make me wish I was born in a different family. What it did do was change my world.

        The life as the son of a famous and rich person isn't easy. How could that be? You get everything you could ever want! True, but you also have to fit the image of your parents. Why don't you have any world changing inventions? Why are you a troublemaker? Your father is such a great guy! You struggle in science class? Your father was a science ace! I hate it so much.

        Dinner that night was silent per usual. My dad sat in the seat of power, my mom next to him. I sat at the other end. Andrew waited at the table-side. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I slowly cut the meat on my plate. Press down. Pull back. Push forward. Pull back. Push forward. Stab with fork. Place in mouth. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Your napkin must stay in your lap. Dab lightly around your mouth. You eat with poise. That's how it is done.

        After dinner I went up to my room. It was huge. Gifts from different people hung on the wall and stood on my shelfs. Alicia Polzin gave me a Feuerzangenbowle bottle. Edita Abbate gifted me a bottle of wine. Alex Song presented me with a silk scarf. All fancy, all expensive. From all around the world. All from people I didn't even know. All worthless. There was only one gift that I valued. A chain bracelet, lightly rusted. From her.

        I got onto my bed. King size. Big. Empty. A lot like my heart. So much space, yet only filled with emptiness. She couldn't help me. No one could help me. At night it was the worst. Your eyes are closed but your mind is awake. It hates you. It despises you. It shows you how alone you are, how truly alone. It also shows you how empty you are, how you feel nothing, because you are nothing. It screams at you, keeping you awake. You don't deserve to sleep it away. You have to experience it.

        That's what makes you strong. Some bring a blade to their skin to feel something, just so they are no longer numb. That is the easy escape. The strong want to do it. They want to feel the cool metal. Have it slowly slice them. But they choose not to. They choose to see the blade, to hold it in their hands, to see their reflection in it, but they choose to put it back. Or perhaps the strong are just too weak, too scared to bring that pain on themselves. That's the real dilemma.

        Eventually, I fell asleep. Just like that. Somehow, my mind gave up, and my eyes shut, and my brain went dark. It felt like five seconds, and I was awake, back in hell.

        "Good morning my boy! Time to get ready! We got a big ball game to go to!" my father said cheerfully, wheeling into my room.

         "I'll go at my own pace, thank you very much," I said, getting out of my bed.

        "Don't take too long! Don't want to miss the game!" he exclaimed, and left.

        "I much rather miss it," I grumbled, making my bed. I dressed myself as slowly as I could stand, but eventually I was ready, and there was nothing stopping me from going to this game.

        "Hey, you go have a good day with him, okay? I know you don't want to go, and the last person you want to hang with is him, but he'll be gone soon. Then it'll be just you and I," my mom came up to me and said. She whispered the last part in my ear. I wondered if she really meant it. Or was she just lying to me like how she lies to herself? I brushed her off, and got in the car my father had waiting. He was already in a separate car. God forbid he rides with his own son. My phone rang.

        "Hello?"

        "Hey you! Are you at the ball game yet?"

         "No, just left. What about you? Where are you at?"

        "Somewhere between the Stairway to Heaven and the Highway to Hell."

        "Hahaha that's great... So what's up? Or did you just call to hear my voice?"

        "Oh I just butt-dialed you. Did you think I WANTED to hear you or something? Hahaha. Well I'm sure you are busy. I'll leave you be."

        "So soon?"

        "Yeah, I don't want to invade your bonding time. I love you, and I'll talk to you later."

        "Love you too. Talk later." I hung up the phone. I wanted to tell her that he wasn't even with me at the moment. The thing was, she didn't need to be burdened with my problems. She had her own. She took care of a child that wasn't even hers. I don't know why. She just did.

        "We are here sir," the driver told me. I could hear the people, thousands of them, milling about, and could smell the food in the air. From the window, the stadium was huge, so large you couldn't even see the field because of the bleachers. The driver escorted me to the stands. So many rows! Raised, tired! Step after step after step! With my luck, the seats my dad and I had were at the top. Luckily, we were actually at field level, almost directly behind home plate.

        I sat down in my seat, and waited. It was at least fifteen minutes, and the game was about to begin. The teammates each came to my seat, and shook my hand. One left me with a ball that was signed by all the players. Then they went out to the field, and I was alone once more. Still no dad. Wasn't his car right behind me? Then I had a thought. Maybe the seats weren't wheelchair accessible. The thought made me laugh. Perhaps it would be nice to sit here without him.

        The game was pretty cool. Even if I had no idea how the game was played. The first half hour or so I was trying to figure out the game, and I bought two hotdogs and a thing of nachos. Four innings went by, and still no dad. I wasn't too worried. I half expected it from him. He was probably out paying some woman for who knows what. At least I didn't have to deal with his bull. I sit, relax, and enjoy the game.

        More and more time went by. The Yankees won by a landslide. When the game was over,the team came back to my chair, shook my hand, and took a picture with me. I was then left alone in my chair with a Yankee t-shirt. People started leaving their seats, until there were only a few people here and there.

        Then two men started to approach me. They were dressed purely in dark clothing, and had masks covering their face. I looked around for my driver. Nowhere to be found. I got up from my seat, grabbing all the stuff I had received. First I started walking slowly, acting like nothing was wrong. Every now and then, I took a glimpse behind me, and I could see that they were still following me.

        I started to run. Where was my driver? He was supposed to be my bodyguard! Why were these men after me? Then I realized. I was the son of the most famous person in the world. They wanted me for ransom. They probably took out my driver, and now were after me. That's what I get for trusting my dad to take me out for 'bonding time'. I shouldn't have waited so long to leave. Now there were less people to see me abducted.

        I needed somewhere to hide. There were plenty of places to go, but they were all out in the open, all noticeable. I pulled out my phone, and tried to call my dad. No luck. Damn him! My heart was racing, and I was out of breath. I took a quick turn into an alley, and hid near a dumpster. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Pray that they didn't see me.

        "Come out Junior! Your dad sent us for you! No need to run!" one of the men called out, stepping into the alley. Could I fight them? Could I outrun them? I didn't know. I just knew I was in a tight spot. I decided to act like I was going to fight them, and run straight past. I got ready, and when the man got close enough, I bolted. I ran straight at him, and within a second, he grabbed me and forced me to the ground.

        "May the vessel for his soul be blessed," the man whispered into my ear. Then I felt something sharp go into my arm. A warm liquid trickled into my vein. What did he inject me with? Suddenly my muscles stopped working. My body just fell. My heart! The beating started to slow! I can't breathe! Heeeh... I can't breathe! Heeeh.... I can't breathe! What is happening to me? I can't breathe... I can't... Heeeeeeh.... Ack.... Heeeeeh... Ack.... Heeeh... haaaaaaaah....