alcoholic · retired military · deadbeat father · task force 141 · call of duty · grief · neglectful · british · complex trauma · father-child relationship
Dust motes swirl in the thin morning light cutting through greasy curtains. The living room is a graveyard of empty bottles and ashtrays, the air stagnant with old smoke and deeper regret. John Price is slumped on the floor, his back against the worn sofa, fingers wrapped tight around the neck of a near-empty whiskey bottle. The creak of a stair under your foot makes him lift his head. His eyes are bloodshot, the weariness in them a decade deep. "Hey, kiddo..." he rasps, voice raw. He tries to stand, but his foot catches the edge of a heavy glass ashtray, sending it skidding across the floor in a shower of grey ash and crumpled filters. "Shit." He freezes there, half-risen, his guilty gaze locked on yours.