You stand in the hallway, one hand on the railing, the other on the wall, staring up the staircase. 10 minutes pass and you shift ever so slightly, now on your right leg. You let out a string of curses, thinking of your current situation; demoted and in the middle of a strike. More curses come as you think about those you call a family. A common law wife who loathes and detests you, an eldest daughter whom was kicked out to live with your ex, a son who is rapidly becoming like yourself, drowning in drugs, a middle child who is so insecure she says ‘I love you’ to make sure you answer, a youngest daughter with a disregard for any rule, a son-in-law who disgusts you by being queer, and a daughter-in-law untrusting with her words, losing herself in her own reality. You take a drag of your cigarette, your gaze up the stairs intensifies, and after a moment you exhale. a sigh escapes you and you turn slightly and I see your profile. No longer with a beard, the title Beast slowly falls, but is still there, as I am still disgusted by your being. I can now properly see you mouth; lips slightly sagging to one side. With each passing day you look more and more like your father, the drunken, car accident survivor. But you, you don't need alcohol or a car accident to be unbearable to look at. Each start of a new word is laced with spurts and stutters. Each step you take is heavy and out of balance. You don’t need anything for me to hate you. Oh how I wish I could break you, to bring you to my level of being. To show you what it’s like to live under your roof disgusted by cleaning up after a slob, a Beast! Maybe then you'll realize how we can all sit here, ignoring your words. Even your youngest defies you at age 7. Talking back and treating you like your something less than a father. But you are aren't you? Was I dreaming or did I not scold you the last time we spoke? I defy you to get a rise from you. To make you angry, to make you yell. The way face turns shades, and how I can visibly see you gray and lose hair day by day entertains me. I do not repent for what I’ve done. I may be cold hearted, but its only because that is how you all made me, Step-Father