Kim knew.
Kim knew I had that dream again last night.
For the past ten years—ever since my dad left me alone with my mom—I’ve been having these dreams about him. And honestly, he wasn’t even that great of a person for me to keep dreaming about him after he left. It’s not because I miss him or anything. No, these dreams are just... leftover scraps of bad memories that he didn’t bother taking with him when he disappeared.
Dante wasn’t a good dad. He wasn’t a good man. Heck, he wasn’t even a decent human being. Whenever he got the chance, he’d hit Mom, forcing me to hide under the bed, clamping my own hands over my mouth, listening to the sounds of things breaking and Mom screaming.
Whenever he came home drunk, it was a nightmare—for her and for me. The next morning, I’d always find Mom b
