Remember

Remember

Timmy Reynolds stands at the door of his parent's apartment. Warily, he lifts his hand and gives two sharp raps on the door. Clunk, clunk! As he waits for the door to be opened, his mind races through the events that led him there.
It all started when Timmy was 7 years old. He had been very small for his age, and was teased constantly at school. But home was no better. His father was a former pro wrestler and was forcing Timmy to choose the same career. What he didn't know was that Timmy really wanted to be a writer. Even if he had known, he wouldn't have cared. He forced Timmy to work hard, spend hours practicing after school, and even beat him if he didn't win a match. These beatings were brutal and often. Timmy was the worst wrestler on his team, and rarely won.
Timmy's wrestling coach, Kevin McMorris, knew something was wrong when he noticed a large bruise on Timmy's left shoulder one day at practice. When he questioned Timmy about it, he warily replied "Oh, I fell down the stairs.
"OK, just be careful. I don't want you really injured, warned Kevin. He made a mental note to stop by Timmy's house that night.
"Hello, Mr. Reynolds, I'm Timmy's wrestling coach, Kevin McMorris. I'd like to talk to you about Timmy, Kevin started cheerily.
"What's the matter now? grumbled Timmy's dad "Has he lost another match?
"No, sir. It's just that I noticed a large bruise on his left shoulder today at practice, Kevin said, slightly shocked.
"Oh, that silly kid tripped and slammed his shoulder on a chair, he explained dismissively. "He's always doing stuff like that.
"Oh, well thank you sir. Goodbye.
Something must be wrong. Thought Kevin. Timmy said he fell down the stairs. He decided to let it go.
The next weekend was the big town meet. Timmy was not looking forward to it at all, because he was going to get a beating for sure. When it was his turn to go, Timmy was terrified of losing again, so he just punched his opponent in the face,
"Timmy, cried his coach, who was at that moment filling in for the referee. "Why did you do that? It was a horrible thing to do, he bellowed, shaking his finger at him.
Timmy just stood there, crying, his face puckered up as if he had just eaten a lemon. At that moment his father stormed up to Timmy, grabbed his hand, and led him away.
That night Timmy received the worst beating of his life. His father's eyes burned with fire, the fire of rage and of disappointment of his son. Later, as Timmy lay in bed, he made a decision. It was the only option, in his 7 year old logic. He decided to run away. Not just anywhere in New York, his home state, but to Buffalo, the closest to being out of the country you could get.
So, Timmy packed his suitcase, and took $100.00 from the money jar, and vanished into the night.
Now, 8 years later, he stands on his front stoop and waits for the door to be opened. Slowly it's opened, and a bedraggled man looks out. His expression of heartbreak turns to shock as he realizes who's at the door.
"Dad? Timmy whispers. "Dad, I'm home.