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The Rath of Fury

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As I stood over him, I know what I have to do. “Help! Help!” I hear his screaming. It enters my brain. Clawing at me, begging me to help. “No, no, no!” I yell back, maybe I’ve officially gone insane but I don’t care, show no mercy I think; no mercy no mercy. I crouch down, our eyes meet. I’m still looking over him, I see the fear in his eyes, yet there is still a glimmer of hope, his face grows white, death creeping on him. There he is hanging off a building, his dear hands being the only thing keeping him alive. I reach out for his hands; his face softens, “Thank you dad” he smiles, “For making me who I am today.” His smile fades and his brows furrow. I take his hand and I hold it. “You’re going down.” I begin to lift his hand so it is no longer touching the roof “Literally.” For once in my life I am in full control of my body, and his. “Goodbye dad,” I thrust my arms forward and let go of his hand “See you in hell.”






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"Surveillance cameras saw you push him."
"I didn't kill my father." I said as I sat in the police room.
"Then how do you explain the fact that you were standing over him, and then he fell?"
"He was suicidal."
"The only reason you're not in jail right now is because we couldn't find his body."
"Not my problem." I shrugged. I know I killed him but I know he deserves it.
"Look I know you didn't, but I just need to ask some questions about the rivalry between you and your father."
"Well it all started when I came home early from my trip to Florida. He said he couldn't come because he had a lot of work that needed to be done, but I felt bad leaving him alone on his birthday so I took an earlier flight back home so I could surprise him, which was quite the irony considering the fact that he was the one who surprised me."
"Alone?"
"Yeah, Mom divorced him when I was 3. Go figure. Smart woman I would say, I would have done the same myself. "
"Where is your mother now?"
"Dead."
"Dead?"
"Yes, dead. Did I not make myself clear?"
"You, certainly did I apologize. How did she die?"
"That's a very good question."
"You don't know how your mother died?"
"Dad said she died in a car accident, but I would call it third degree murder."
"You think he murdered her?"
"I said third degree, and I know for a fact that he did. Mom died a month after the divorce was settled in the car that he gave her as a peace offering, police investigated and concluded that the breaks has stopped functioning. Go figure."
"You do realize that this is a police investigation right?"
"No, really? I thought I was camping out at the police department for the last hour for fun!"
"I appreciate your sarcasm, but what I meant was that you're not helping anyone with all your negative remarks about your father. Your being investigated for murder, and I can't help you if you're not trying to help yourself. If you're proven guilty, you're sentenced to a lifetime in jail."
"What do you want me to do, lie? Yes my father was a great man! Always there for me whenever I needed him!"
"You know that's not what I meant, I just need some evidence that could lead to the conclusion that he committed suicide, and your conclusion on him murdering your mother is not enough. I need evidence. What was the main thing that fueled your fury towards him?"
"I'm getting there, but maybe if you hadn't interrupted me with your unnecessary questions and information."
"Fine, continue."
"Gladly. I came home and it seemed as if no one was home, so I began to gather balloons and birthday decorations to decorate his room with. I made my way to his room only to find out that he was..."
"Can I interrupt you one last time. You said he murdered your mom but if you thought that he did, why would you be decorating his room for his birthday?"
"It all hit me after he did what he did."
"I see, so what exactly did he do"
"He- he" I try to choke up the words but nothing comes out.
"What is it? What did he do?"
"He ra-"
The doors thrust open with a loud bang, and in comes my dad. His clothes are ripped, little specks of dirt cover his face and he has a big scar on his forehead. The rest of his body is covered in big dark blue bruises, and some twigs are wedged in between his hair. He limps over to where I'm sitting and rests on the table.
"He didn't kill me," dad points to me "I tried to kill myself but luckily landed on a tree that saved my life, can me and my son leave now?"
"Suicide is a serious matter, you will need to complete 2 months in a rehabilitation facility."
"I guess that is reasonable, but may I have a minute alone with my son?"
"Of course"
The cop leaves and I am now alone with my dad. I shudder, maybe I'm in hell already.
"So what were you about to say before I rudely interrupted?"
"Oh nothing important, just the fact that you raped my girlfriend!"
"Oh I did no such thing"
"Let's just cut to the chase, why did you cover for me?"
"I want a new start, having a near death experience really changed me."
"Yeah right, let's be honest here, you don't have a single nice bone in your body."
"You really know me well son. I'm here to make you pay for what you did."
"So why didn't you just send me to jail."
"Oh son, you've got much to learn. Jail is nothing compared to me."
"If I'm going down, then you're coming with me. I'm going to tell them you raped Clarissa."
"Who are they going to believe? A stupid teenager like you or a rehabilitated man like me?"
"I have evidence!”
“Oh you mean Clarissa? She’s on a spiritual journey in Thailand.”
“You got rid of Clarissa?!”
“I wouldn’t say it like that.” He snickers. “ I funded her trip, you should thank me.”
“You’re crazy.”
“What can I say, like father like son.”




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