[ Every time he thinks maybe he should do it, punch his father, right now, make sure, his imagination supplies him with an image of his dead body, bloody and disjointed, broken beyond repair. Like a single punch could throw him right back to that state.
He can't do it. He feels like a coward, but he doesn't run away - he's never been one to run away. He keeps his eyes on his father's, nostrils flared as he struggles to breathe.
He wishes Adam was here. What would his father think of him and Adam?
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He can't do it. He feels like a coward, but he doesn't run away - he's never been one to run away. He keeps his eyes on his father's, nostrils flared as he struggles to breathe.
He wishes Adam was here. What would his father think of him and Adam?
He points his chin to the bed behind them. ]
You dreamed this?