Wanderers

Nothing in life is easy. I’ve known this since I was a kid. My father was a strict man with a hard heart. He was my solo guardian growing up and he taught me most of what I know. He believed strongly in discipline. He raised me with an iron fist if you will. Now that isn’t to say that he beat me. That man taught me how to protect myself against all the evils of the world. I grew up as a warrior, as my father had. I learned how to defend myself from an attacker and how to be the attacker. The lessons started out slow and simple but as the years progressed I was taught harder things. Like how best to handle a sword or gun; how best to kill a person.

For as long as I can remember it had only been my father and I. My mother was killed when I was an infant so naturally all memories of her are nonexistent. The fact that I was raised without a mother matters little though. My father was all I had and all I needed. Somewhere along the way I forgot this piece of information. I turned my back on everything that he believed in and everything that I had been raised to believe. I broke the rules that were put in place to keep me safe. The truth is that my fathers’ death was inadvertently my fault. Had I never rebelled against him, he might still be alive. It wasn’t until my father’s death that I realized how much he meant to me and how, without him I wouldn’t be alive today.

Because even with all his faults, he did what he knew was necessary. He made me strong and able to take care of myself despite any situation. For that reason I love him.

Now it’s time for me to reverse all the wrong that I had done. It’s time for me to take over for my father and try and fix things in this world that we live in. A task easier said than done.