He tried to give me a welcoming grin, but all I saw were the rotting teeth and the black holes where teeth should have been.

“You’re an adult.” He said, still grinning like a jack o lantern.

“I’m nineteen,” I said, “somewhere in the middle of adolescence and adulthood.”

“Well tell me what a nineteen year old today does!” he exclaimed, “Do you live at home? Are you in school? Have you done places, done things, seen people…” “I go to school. I live in a dorm. I go places. I see people.” “Do you…”

“I need to ask you things. I need to hear things from you. I need you to stay with me today and pay attention.”

It was strange for me, talking so sternly, so demanding, to my father. I wanted him to tell me to watch my tone, to be more respectful. I wanted his face to tense up and his eyes to go narrow as he said, “Knock it off before I…” But instead he simply smirked and nodded in a way that said, go on.