Lucem
Ten Thousand Club
When Alex was a kid, he always asked his father about the lab he worked in. Visiting was impossible, so he settled on the vague descriptions that fueled his curiosity. Now that he was actually standing in the place that often filled his thoughts, he couldn't feel any of that childish wonder or excitement. Despite the various equipment that lined the walls, and the pristine environment that didn't match the rest of the ruined building, it felt empty to him.
When the speaker crackled with life and played the sound of his father's voice, there was a rush of emotion that eased the sinking feeling in his stomach. That sensation only left him more conflicted, especially when he took in what the man had to say. Even if he couldn't help it, he quickly regretted his reaction to discovering that his parent was alive. That regret led to a sense of guilt, bringing forth confusion and even more emotions that were difficult for him to sort out as the voice kept talking to Modestine. Now wasn't the time to get distracted by things like that, so he simply did what he was used to. He forced all those emotions into a little bottle, putting a cap on top so that they wouldn't get in the way.
Honestly, he didn't know what Modestine expected him to do. She had a better chance of getting through to his father than him. It had been years since he saw her, so she probably wasn't aware of how things had changed. In the past, she may have known them as a close family that loved each other, but that relationship didn't exist anymore. They were still father and son, but any connection beyond that had been severed. They were only tied by blood. If Modestine couldn't get him to listen, then there was nothing that he could do. However, she was asking him to try. He couldn't reject her.
Walking closer to the speaker, Alex stood still, unsure of what to say. He tried to think of something, but words refused to come out. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to think for long. Once again, the speaker came to life, playing only static for a few moments before the familiar voice played once again. "Are you really there, Alex?"
There it was. While he heard it before when Modestine was trying to convince him, this was the first time in several months that his father had spoken to him. The man's voice was hoarse and almost sounded labored as he spoke, but the tone was still familiar to him. He always sounded empty when he spoke, wearing a cold expression that made it seem like spitting out a few words was a bother. Like his father, he took a few moments to respond, letting out an equally unpleasant tone. "Yeah." He wasn't always like this, but all the times he tried to get something out of his father amounted to nothing. Eventually, he just got tired of it, finally realizing that nothing would ever change. His father's coldness rubbed off on him and now this was all he could do. This was just how they communicated.
"Are you alright?" There seemed to be something beneath the usual chill in his voice when he asked the question, but it must have just been the man succumbing to whatever had made him so exhausted. He was used to that question and there never seemed to be any true concern behind it. It was just something his father said to fill the long silences during the rare times he came home. It was one of the few things he ever said, asking before quickly leaving once again until the next silent dinner. During those times, he'd always give the same answer, knowing that regardless of the truth, it wouldn't matter. "Yeah."
Even in this lab, their conversation was following the usual pattern. An uncomfortable silence had returned with nothing left to fill it. It was at this point that his father would usually be walking out the front door until their next meeting, but there was nowhere for him to go now. For the first time, Alex was standing in the place where his father would retreat to time and time again. For the first time, their conversation couldn't end like it usually did.
"Ms. Kent came all this way to make sure you were okay." He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how to speak to his father, but Modestine had asked him to do this. This was probably the longest he had spoken to him in years and he could only keep things going like this, saying things without any idea of how to properly convince him. "Stop messing around. We need to leave befo--"
"--That's impossible." It didn't take long for his father to cut him off. He didn't expect to be interrupted so soon, but Alex wasn't surprised. He just couldn't talk to him. "You two need to leave now."
Alex didn't say anything. He didn't move either. However, as he stood still, his mind was racing. His father didn't say much, but as he picked apart those words and took them in, there was something unsettling about them. As he kept repeating them in his head, he kept coming back to one thought. It felt like his body was preventing him from saying anything about it. If he mentioned it, then it would become real. However, the question still slipped through his lips as his ears awaited an answer he already knew. "Why does it sound like you're going to die?"
There was no emotion behind that question. He simply kept his gaze to the pure white floor, letting silence overtake the room once again. This time, it was uncomfortably long. "In the house, there's a letter." The question was ignored, but the lack of an answer was all that he needed. "If you have questions, read it."
That was the end of it. "Modestine, I'll say it once again." He just couldn't get through to his father. Continuing the discussion was pointless, so he ended it himself. "This conversation is over." Even if he was only talking to a speaker, Alex could still see his image. Like always, he could see his father walking out that door. Once again, his father was leaving him behind.
"Now take Alex and--"
"-Shut up!" He really had no idea what he was doing. "Don't just leave it at that!" He didn't even recognize his own voice. "That's how things are gonna end?" He just kept saying words without realizing. "Don't screw with me!" How long had it been since he last yelled? He honestly couldn't remember. "You're making me feel like an idiot for worrying about you!" Despite how much their relationship had changed for the worse, he still couldn't help but feel relieved upon hearing his father's voice. "I don't know what happened," He was still happy that his father was alive. It made him question many things. He'd never wish harm on anyone, but that joy made him question his own feelings. His guilt, hatred, grief, pain, and happiness. He avoided them all by bottling them up. That's what he always did, never acknowledging anything and letting them fade away. He wasn't sure if it was because of everything that had happened today, letting his exhaustion and frustration get the best of him. Although, he could still tell that a small portion was slipping out. While it wasn't large, the bottle now had a crack. "But don't just tell me to read some letter! If you have something to say, then say it in person! Until you do, I'm not going anywhere!"
He really didn't know how to talk to his father.
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When the speaker crackled with life and played the sound of his father's voice, there was a rush of emotion that eased the sinking feeling in his stomach. That sensation only left him more conflicted, especially when he took in what the man had to say. Even if he couldn't help it, he quickly regretted his reaction to discovering that his parent was alive. That regret led to a sense of guilt, bringing forth confusion and even more emotions that were difficult for him to sort out as the voice kept talking to Modestine. Now wasn't the time to get distracted by things like that, so he simply did what he was used to. He forced all those emotions into a little bottle, putting a cap on top so that they wouldn't get in the way.
Honestly, he didn't know what Modestine expected him to do. She had a better chance of getting through to his father than him. It had been years since he saw her, so she probably wasn't aware of how things had changed. In the past, she may have known them as a close family that loved each other, but that relationship didn't exist anymore. They were still father and son, but any connection beyond that had been severed. They were only tied by blood. If Modestine couldn't get him to listen, then there was nothing that he could do. However, she was asking him to try. He couldn't reject her.
Walking closer to the speaker, Alex stood still, unsure of what to say. He tried to think of something, but words refused to come out. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to think for long. Once again, the speaker came to life, playing only static for a few moments before the familiar voice played once again. "Are you really there, Alex?"
There it was. While he heard it before when Modestine was trying to convince him, this was the first time in several months that his father had spoken to him. The man's voice was hoarse and almost sounded labored as he spoke, but the tone was still familiar to him. He always sounded empty when he spoke, wearing a cold expression that made it seem like spitting out a few words was a bother. Like his father, he took a few moments to respond, letting out an equally unpleasant tone. "Yeah." He wasn't always like this, but all the times he tried to get something out of his father amounted to nothing. Eventually, he just got tired of it, finally realizing that nothing would ever change. His father's coldness rubbed off on him and now this was all he could do. This was just how they communicated.
"Are you alright?" There seemed to be something beneath the usual chill in his voice when he asked the question, but it must have just been the man succumbing to whatever had made him so exhausted. He was used to that question and there never seemed to be any true concern behind it. It was just something his father said to fill the long silences during the rare times he came home. It was one of the few things he ever said, asking before quickly leaving once again until the next silent dinner. During those times, he'd always give the same answer, knowing that regardless of the truth, it wouldn't matter. "Yeah."
Even in this lab, their conversation was following the usual pattern. An uncomfortable silence had returned with nothing left to fill it. It was at this point that his father would usually be walking out the front door until their next meeting, but there was nowhere for him to go now. For the first time, Alex was standing in the place where his father would retreat to time and time again. For the first time, their conversation couldn't end like it usually did.
"Ms. Kent came all this way to make sure you were okay." He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how to speak to his father, but Modestine had asked him to do this. This was probably the longest he had spoken to him in years and he could only keep things going like this, saying things without any idea of how to properly convince him. "Stop messing around. We need to leave befo--"
"--That's impossible." It didn't take long for his father to cut him off. He didn't expect to be interrupted so soon, but Alex wasn't surprised. He just couldn't talk to him. "You two need to leave now."
Alex didn't say anything. He didn't move either. However, as he stood still, his mind was racing. His father didn't say much, but as he picked apart those words and took them in, there was something unsettling about them. As he kept repeating them in his head, he kept coming back to one thought. It felt like his body was preventing him from saying anything about it. If he mentioned it, then it would become real. However, the question still slipped through his lips as his ears awaited an answer he already knew. "Why does it sound like you're going to die?"
There was no emotion behind that question. He simply kept his gaze to the pure white floor, letting silence overtake the room once again. This time, it was uncomfortably long. "In the house, there's a letter." The question was ignored, but the lack of an answer was all that he needed. "If you have questions, read it."
That was the end of it. "Modestine, I'll say it once again." He just couldn't get through to his father. Continuing the discussion was pointless, so he ended it himself. "This conversation is over." Even if he was only talking to a speaker, Alex could still see his image. Like always, he could see his father walking out that door. Once again, his father was leaving him behind.
"Now take Alex and--"
"-Shut up!" He really had no idea what he was doing. "Don't just leave it at that!" He didn't even recognize his own voice. "That's how things are gonna end?" He just kept saying words without realizing. "Don't screw with me!" How long had it been since he last yelled? He honestly couldn't remember. "You're making me feel like an idiot for worrying about you!" Despite how much their relationship had changed for the worse, he still couldn't help but feel relieved upon hearing his father's voice. "I don't know what happened," He was still happy that his father was alive. It made him question many things. He'd never wish harm on anyone, but that joy made him question his own feelings. His guilt, hatred, grief, pain, and happiness. He avoided them all by bottling them up. That's what he always did, never acknowledging anything and letting them fade away. He wasn't sure if it was because of everything that had happened today, letting his exhaustion and frustration get the best of him. Although, he could still tell that a small portion was slipping out. While it wasn't large, the bottle now had a crack. "But don't just tell me to read some letter! If you have something to say, then say it in person! Until you do, I'm not going anywhere!"
He really didn't know how to talk to his father.
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