As We Fade From One Another

A murky veil separates father and son

"It's me, Dad. Don't you recognize me?"

"W-What are you doing here? You don't here! Who are you?! GET OUT!!"

I looked at him sadly, wondering if maybe he was right. I heard the orderly running up the hall, and I stood aside as he bounded in the door, leaving behind him as he went to comfort my father. Halfway down the hall, I could hear him consoling my father. "It's okay, Mr. James. There's no one here. Easy, my man..."

"But he was here. I saw my son. Who—Who are you? Why are you in my room?!"

The confused conversation faded as I walked through the front doors. He was much worse. I knew his time was coming and wanted to be there for him, to ease his passing. But what could I do if he refused to see me?

"Where do I belong?" I wondered to myself.

I remembered the last time I had come to him, and it had been no less difficult.

"You can't love me anymore. You shouldn't be here. Don't come back!" He had turned away, weeping and swearing.

I stood in the doorway for what seemed like hours, looking at him lying on his narrow bed: a faded old man who spent half his time in the real world and half his time in splintered and corroded memories.

"I don't know where else to go, Dad," I murmured to myself. "I don't have anywhere to go."

And even now, he would see me, but he would not—perhaps could not—know me. I finally admitted I wouldn't be able to help him; I would never be able to return his kindness.

I turned away with a heavy heart and left behind the last behind who had held me before I died.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 300

Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 

Prompt: Use the phrase "What are you doing here"