Pisaries Creator

My dad had been dead for less than a year. I missed him like the next person. The last time I went downstairs into his work area in the basement, I saw a photo of myself from high school. Why did he still have that up? I was sixteen at the time and only a green belt. There were hopes of making that green belt turn black. I never got there. I had two more levels to go to black. This was the longest I had stayed with a sport. My mind overrode what my body wished I had done. I quit everything in my life and didn’t take risks.

After I fell asleep the same night after thinking of my dad, I was transported to a long room in a building. There were two floors filled with knick knacks and all kinds of useless items. Soon, it dawned on me, I was back where I used to work and with a boss I absolutely hated. The worst part was I had to ask him if I could use some of his inventory to create a relief. I had a chance to win this competition. I hadn’t won anything in the past except a large jar of worthless candy. For someone who hates sugar, it was the worst thing to win. I believe my dad took the jar away from me when I wanted to throw it against one of the basement walls.

My heart felt something back when I was a teenager. Now, I’m not sure how I feel. My dad isn’t here to tell me everything’s fine, that everything is going to be okay. He never said that to me when he was living so I’m not sure why I’m thinking this now. In my dream, I needed to know he was okay. I whispered to no one that I won the prestigious award and dedicated it to him. There was no one to ask for redemption. By the time I slumped down to the floor, my hands covered my eyes. I didn’t want to see what was playing on the video reel. The voices were enough.