“I’m home.” I heard my dad shout from downstairs. I ran to him and hugged him really tight.
“What’s up? What is wrong with you?” My dad asked. I remained silent and hugged him tighter.
“I can feel your heavy breathing. What is it?” My dad asked again. I looked at him and I feel like I will cry soon. But there are no tears coming out. I am just really sad. I feel like I am empty. Like I left something.
“Dad.” I said and sighed.
“What is it? Come on… You can tell dad. You can always tell dad. I am always here, I will always listen. Remember?” My dad said with his convincing look. Yes, he is. Since when I was a child he is always there…Listening.
“I quit.” I said and dad looked at me with a furrowed forehead. I bit the right side of my cheek and sat down.
“What do you mean?” My dad aske
