Teddy Baker Episode 8

Survivors of the Z’s- Teddy Baker, Gatewick, outside Wales

Time was frozen. With all faces looking my way. Including my confused father who now looked more likely to hate me than love me.
Still love me
But more hate than love
Which was something I couldn’t afford. I needed for him to stay on my side. Not look at me as a bad guy. I wasn’t a bad guy. I never would be a bad guy. Like I said before I was protecting my family
My kids
My own blood
The world was changing and they needed me to be their protector. Not their soft as sugary dough mother. She was too nice. They needed somebody like me.
Somebody who would do anything to protect them
I got up and tried walking away. My heart was like a volcano.
It was going to boil over. I was heartbroken. My glass had been shattered and I couldn’t think straight.
My own son… hated me
“Where’d you think you’re going,” Dad said, I didn’t say a word, “look at me when I’m talking to you!”
He didn’t understand
Nobody would understand
What would you do?
What would he do?
I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m crazy, but you ain’t me. You’re you.
I carried on down the stairs and into the livingroom, he got in front of me, we were now face to face, “Dad please”
“Please what?” He asked, “please don’t beg my son to tell me the truth?”
Our eyes met and the tention filled. His face shook with angst. His body was an earthquake. His soul crumbling.
“It’ll destroy you,” I said
“What do you take me for?!” He shouted, his anger still made me jump, but a cough came after, “do you think I’m weak, huh? Do you think I can’t take the truth?”
I turned to walk away and saw Jack at the stairs. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t face his hate at that moment.
His gaze
I needed to figure out a way of getting out of the mess I was in. My dad was growing inpatient.
What to do?
What to say?
He already knew the truth. He believed Jack. I knew it. I could sense it, but coming from me would kill him. Rip his heart in two and send it into a gloomy orbit with no stars.
No light
“The worlds changing dad,” I said, “the world we know is crumbling and we need to be ready”
“What’re you talking about?” He said, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I had my back turned
“You’ve watched the news, you’ve seen it all, people are going crazy, eating each other, tearing each other limb from limb, governments are struggling to contain it and you know what else?”
I turned to face him.
I felt his nerves. I felt that what ever I was going to throw his way he wanted to dodge. Anything and everything was hell from there on out.
“I killed them”
“You killed them?”
“Yes, I killed them”
He shook his head crazily. Looking up into the air.
Into the sky
At the heavens. Like he was trying to figure something out, like he was trying to get in touch with mum.
What would she’d do?
What would she’d say?
How would she cope with her son turning into a murderous crazy bastard who’d do anything to save his children?
His blood?
“We didn’t raise you to be like this,” he said, his emotions stuck in his throat, “you’ve become a monster”
“You can cry dad, I know you’re dissapointed in me”
I stepped toward him. He raised his fist and swung for me. The pain I felt and the impact put me onto my backside. I looked up at him.
Rushing through my veins. How dare you lay your hands on me dad. How dare you embarrasse me in front of my son.
“You’re no son of mine,” he said, “you don’t deserve to have kids”
I stared his way and saw my son looking on from behind. In the backdrop I knew what he was thinking.
Cheering my dad on with his hate flowing through him.
For me
For his father
His blood
The next pages he wanted to be something else. I saw it in his hands as he walked slowly down the stairs like a night terror waiting for the curtain to raise for the show. It was now
Of course
Life was nothing more than a hole that was having manure thrown into it.
“Jack, go back upstairs,” my dad said
“I want to see this,” he said
I got up and walked quickly
toward my dad and took him by surprise. I grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. The ornaments on the walled shelves shook from the impact.
I screamed in his face, “don’t ever lay your hands on me again!”
“Go on, do it,” he said, “kill me as well, you know you want to, I can see it in your eyes”
I squeezed heavily on his throat. My fists were poison. He wasn’t even fighting back. Nothing was coming my way. It was all left up to me. My dad’s eyes were suddenly directed somewhere else.
Eyes stretched
“Jack,” he struggled “put it down”
I looked around and saw my son standing there with a knife. Hate
Aimed at me…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s