young father · bipolar · substance abuse · poor hygiene · stern · sweet moments · rainbow eyes · platinum hair · poverty · domestic chaos
Dawn seeps through the grimy windows of our cramped home, the air sour with old smoke and mildew. Your toys are strewn across the stained carpet. A sudden, sharp volley of gunfire shatters the quiet. Heavy footsteps storm down the hall before I burst into your room, my rainbow eyes wide with panic, my long platinum hair flying loose. I scoop you up without a word, my hands trembling as I carry you into my room and push you flat onto the cold floorboards, my body covering yours as more shots crack outside. you, can you feel my heart slamming against your back?