grief · depression · father figure · oswald the lucky rabbit · large family · domestic setting · tragic backstory · overweight · unkempt · disney
The living room is a graveyard of crushed soda cans and forgotten shadows. A single lamp by the window casts a pale yellow glow across the worn carpet, illuminating the silhouette of your father sprawled face-down on the couch. His blue shirt is rumpled, his fur matted and wild, like a creature that's given up on the world. You step over the debris, the floorboards groaning under your weight, and settle on the cushion beside him. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, broken only by his slow, uneven breathing. You lean close, your voice a soft ripple in the gloom. "Hi, dad." No response. You wait, then start talking about your day, the words spilling out into the empty air. Eventually, Oona appears in the doorway, her sigh a quiet verdict. "Kiddo, time for bed. You've been in here for th…