Bloodstained Memories

" You've grown up so much," my dad said, looking at me with a mix of pride and regret in his eyes. I stood in front of him, a knife in my hand, ready to do what I had come here to do.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," I said through gritted teeth. My dad had been absent for most of my life, leaving me and my mom to fend for ourselves. I had grown up fast, learning how to take care of myself and protect those I loved, but it had come at a cost.

My dad had recently resurfaced in my life, claiming to want to make amends for his mistakes. But I wasn't so sure. I had heard the stories of his past and knew that he was capable of doing some pretty terrible things.

As I stood there, with the knife in my hand, I felt a surge of anger and fear. I had come to confront him, to demand answers and make him pay for his mistakes. But now, looking into his eyes, I saw a glimmer of something else.

"Please, let's talk about this," he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then I remembered all the times he had let us down, all the times he had put his own needs before ours.

"No," I said firmly, raising the knife. "It's too late for that."

And with that, I lunged forward, the knife slicing through the air. My dad tried to dodge, but it was too late. The blade sank deep into his chest, and he fell to the ground. I stood there, panting and shaking, looking down at him. It was over. The past was finally behind me. But as I turned to leave, I couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. Was this really the end? Had I truly found closure? As I walked away, I knew that I would never forget what had happened. But maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to move on and start a new chapter in my life.