White City Murder Expo

It was eleven o'clock in the morning when I got up, the milk and sandwiches were cold on the table, and Butcher had gone to school.Before breakfast, I took a shower and took a special look at my underwear—they were all the same, and it was impossible to tell whether they had been changed, so I had no way of knowing whether the absurd dream was real or not.I turned on the shower head, and the hot water was like a powerful solvent, soaking up my despair and tiredness in an instant.

I've had nightmares and dreamed scenes of madmen chasing me, dogs with six eyes barking at me, lumberjacks cutting me up with an axe, and they couldn't scare me.But this morning I started to feel scared.I still remember the touch of those hands moving over the skin, and I wanted him so badly in that moment, and one of the reasons that was that guy was very, very much like my Butcher, but it just wasn't right.How can a person? ...But when I thought of that possibility, I became hardened.I couldn't believe how this swollen ugly thing was poking its head out and I took my hand to it.

Hot water poured down my head continuously, and my hair was wet and stuck to my face. My face was covered with water, and my mouth tasted salty.

**

I took the bus to the city and spent the whole day working in the pharmacy.The World Expo brought a lot of people to Chicago, and if you are a person, you will have a headache. A clerk in the store was already a bit out of work. He mentioned to me about the salary increase, but I pretended not to hear.When I got home in the evening, Butcher was frying fish. He only turned his head slightly when he heard me push the door, and it was no different from before.

During dinner, he asked me, "Isn't it delicious?"

I didn't speak.I don't know why, it's like a rag is stuck in my throat, and I can't taste anything.

After dinner, Butcher went to do his homework. I put on my apron and started to wash the dishes. When I was scrubbing the dishes, Butcher walked into the kitchen at some point and leaned up from behind, almost in a hugging gesture—turning off the water. a little bit.His breath hits my neck and I shiver.

"What are you doing?" I said angrily.

"waste water."

"I'm the one who pays the water bill, right?"

"...You don't seem very happy, why?"

I said no.

"Well," he said, "I'm late for school today."

"why?"

"Because of you, Dad."

"Bullshit." I answered quickly, but what came even quicker was a creepy feeling.What does it mean?I pretended I didn't understand anything, and spoke as usual, and I said, "I slept until noon, but I didn't trip your feet."

Butcher sighed, he stretched out his hand, this time he really hugged me, and wrapped it around my waist: "Are you busy? I found that you have lost weight."

I slipped my hand and broke a plate. With the crackling sound, my sudden guilt and anger exploded.I pushed him away and wiped my hands vigorously on the apron to hide my panic.

I asked, "Don't you know how old you are?"

Butcher seemed taken aback by me.His eyes stared blankly at me, and it took a long time before he asked, "What's wrong with you, Dad?" His voice was so soft that a gust of wind could blow it away.

"You're not normal, Butcher," I forced myself to say in a hard tone. "Come on, are you serious? I was going to say that no one thinks about their dad—anyway, don't No more."

"Are you sure you don't think that's normal," Butcher said, biting down on the last word, "Suey?"

"What should you call me?"

I suddenly raised my hand and dropped a plate, and looked at him silently amidst the instant loud noise.Goosebumps appeared on Butcher's arms.He took a deep look at me and left without saying a word. From then on, he began to avoid me deliberately. I sat in the living room, and he didn't show up downstairs when it was time to take a shower.After I got back to the room, I heard the sound of splashing water coming from the bathroom downstairs.

I felt so regretful as I lay in bed.I always thought that if I went to open his door to apologize to him, maybe everything could be redeemed, but I didn't do it in the end.

At first I thought he was just mad that he didn't see me.However, the next morning, I saw the usual breakfast on the table, and Butcher would still tell me what happened at school at dinner when he came home, but he no longer mentioned the World Expo, no longer hugged me, no longer did anything. The door is left open, allowing me to come and go as I please.

Butcher locked me out.

Did I break his heart?Because I want him to be normal?

In any case, the week went by without a hitch.

On Friday evening, Butcher asked me, "Dad, do I have a friend to bring home tomorrow?"