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We all grew up thinking our parents were heroes without capes.
Afterall, our mothers survived through nine months of carrying us, bringing us onto this world with an immense pain and raising us afterwards. During the painful growing process, they helped us through every second of it, not even minding the hardship. They did it out of love, not wanting anything in return.
Our fathers may have not endured the pain of carrying us but they helped our mothers survive through all of that, supported them into bringing their child on earth. Loving our mothers and making sure they were happy and okay.
Therefore, in our eyes, the eyes of the children, both of them were the biggest idols in life.
As we grew older, we started realizing they aren't perfect either. Obviously, they can't be. We're all humans bound to make mistakes, the mistakes are the things that keep us humane. And that's fine, that's how it is supposed to be.
But everything changes when in some cases, we realize they aren't imperfect heroes without capes at all. The moment they slowly evolve into the villains and everything we once thought was reality becomes a lie. Our entire life becomes a lie, and we become incapable of separating it from the reality.
So, we start separating ourselves from the people that raised us, because they made us lose faith in humanity. They made us lose trust in everyone, because we learned that we cannot even trust our own blood. Soon, this separation turns into anger. We become angry that it had to be this way, and we have every right to.
"D-dad?" Ethan whispers in both disbelief and hurt, the crack in his voice giving away his mixed emotions.
I remain silent, taking ahold of Ethan's trembling hand, trying to calm him somehow by tracing over it with my thumb.
"How the fuck did you learn about my whereabouts?" He snaps, his entire mood shifting to anger. The anger that has been building up since the day they were forced to live away from the monster disguised as their father. A coward that let down his sick wife and child.
"Son—" The male voice on the other side speaks up, only to be interrupted by him again.
"Don't," Ethan spits into the phone, "Don't even try to call me that."
"Just— hear me out for a minute, please." Ethan's father asks in a pleading manner.
Ethan turns to me, as if he's asking me to advise him what to do. I slowly nod , while I rub his shoulder, not sure what kind of reaction he expects from me. "Maybe it's something important?" I whisper, retrieving a hesitant nod from Ethan.
"Go ahead." He speaks after a cough leaves his throat, silently waiting for his father to start.
"I know you're convinced that I never tried to contact you or your sister," He begins, sadness dripping from his voice. "But I have tried to reach out to you many times, for years. I found your mom's new phone number and contacted her, begging her to give you the phone. She didn't want to, she didn't allow me to, but I kept trying and trying. I wanted to speak to my son and my daughter because I had changed—"
