On a cold and rainy night,

I lay in my bed.

I’m dreaming a very peaceful image

And completely unaware of the environment around me.

I dream that I’m with my father,

But instead of the angry and bitter man that I know him as,

This man is a sweet and caring dad without a problem at all.

The only thing I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember

Is someone who can be an actual fatherly influence.

Someone without drug or alcohol problems

And someone without anger issues.

Someone I feel comfortable being proud of.

But people can’t have perfect lives.

They need a place to escape to.

My fantasy about the father I wish I had is my escape

And I enjoy every moment of it while I can.

But this time, my dream had to be cut short.

I woke up and heard sirens blaring.

Not thinking anything of it,

I go back to sleep,

Trying to resume my imagination.

Morning comes.

My mother calls me.

I hear her crying.

“Grayson, your dad overdosed again.

He didn’t make it.”