The Obsession

I remember when he first tried to a ride a bike. He fell down, scraped his knee, and I was there to insure that everything was alright. This is how my life is supposed to be for my child and me; him falling, getting hurt, and me being right there to insure that everything is going to be alright.

Yet, how could you get that?

You don't have any children, none of you would (or could) never understand.

"Daddy," he is ten now and is being taught by a tutor every day at my home for three hours, "can I go to school? Please?"

He can beg all the fuck he wants. I am not letting him go to school. Not where the teachers could rape him, kill him, manipulate him against me, or kidnap him.. Or worse. I am not losing my baby, ever.

"No, baby. You are going to stay here for another year with Ms. Weldman." I say to him with a sigh.

"But why, though? Why can't I go to school? Why can't I be taught by man for once, daddy?"

Ah, yes. The question I have dreading. I already know how to answer it, but still.. I don't know how he'll take it.

"You are going to be taught by Ms. Weldman for another year because she's better than all of those other teachers in the school, but don't tell anyone that."

"Promise daddy." he tells me with a small twinkle in his eye.

"Also, schools have bullies, Ryan. Sometimes the bullies are the teachers and when you try to tell the principal about it, they won't believe you."

"What are bullies?" he asks with confusion.

I chuckle and explain, "Bullies are mean people who try to hurt other kids they are either jealous of or don't like for no reason at all. Bullies beat up people they don't like by throwing into lockers, garbage cans, and by beating them."

He looks frightened and I smile to myself. Mission accomplished.

"R-Really? That sounds scary, daddy." he stammers.

"Yes, it does and plus if a bully hurt you, I wouldn't be able to help you."

He hugs me and says, "Daddy, I wanna stay here."

I hug him back and kiss his forehead. I take in time to realize that his skin is warm and smooth; just like it was five years ago. I pull him onto my lap; kiss his lips once or more before carrying him upstairs to my room.

"Daddy" he yawns before finishing, "you still didn't answer my question."

"What is it, baby?" I ask gently as I get him dressed into his pajamas.

"Why can't a man teach me, daddy? Why does it always have to be a girl?" he asks; his tired amber eyes half closed.

"Because men teachers are ninety-nine percent of the time bullies and you wouldn't want some grown man to beat you, now would you Ryan?"

He shakes his head and falls asleep before I can get his pajama shirt on him. Grinning, I take his shirt off. His skin is smooth, so touchable, so..

I kiss him several times on the chest, let my hands slide underneath his pants, and suck on his neck. He'll have a hickey in the morning. But that's okay, I'll just tell him it's a bruise he got from hitting his neck on the little drawer near my bed.

"Sleep tight, beautiful." I whisper as he wraps his arms around me. Knotting my finger in my angel's hair, I try to not stare at him. But he's so beautiful, that it really is hard to resist. Luckily for me, though, sleep overcomes me.

I am woke up by a loud shriek the next morning. I immediately begin to think it was Ms. Weldman doing something wrong to him, "Ryan! Baby, what is wrong? Where are you?"

"Daddy! There's some weird mark on my neck!" he cries as rushes out of the bathroom to my side.

Thank God. Okay, now what to tell him..what to tell him..

"Babe, you got that from last night. Your neck hit the edge of the drawer near my bed."

His looks relieved. He hugs me, I hug him back before asking, "Ryan, honey, do you want to go out with me tonight?"

Maybe I rushing things with my angel. Maybe I need to slow things down. Maybe I shouldn't be taking an advantage of his ten year old mind. But again, it's all 'maybe'. Before you ask, I am not feeling disgusted at myself for what I am doing.

"Um. Go out?" he says; obviously dumbstruck.

I shake my head slightly at his innocence before trying to explain it, "It means going out to a restaurant and watching a movie afterward. Would you like that?"

"Um. Sure?" he responds; his angelic face still in confusion.

"Alright, we'll leave at five."

"Great! I still have to finish some homework." he tells me with a smile.

He runs off into the living room and I sigh. My little angel is growing up so fast.. Soon, he'll want to sleep in his bed. Soon, he'll learn so much things about the world. Soon, he'll leave to college. Soon, he won't be a baby anymore. Soon, but not now.

I watch some Oprah (laugh at me all you want) before going back to check on my little baby. He is writing something as I stare at his graceful hand. Really, his hands are gorgeous. They're really pale like the rest of him, the fingers are smooth, and his whole hand is general is just..gorgeous. Picture perfect hands, in other words.

"Daddy, what are you staring at?" he asks innocently.

"Nothing sweetie, just..finish your work."

He nods and goes back to writing. I leave the room and go upstairs to change into dating clothes. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this to Ryan.. Maybe I should give Lacie another try. (Before you ask, Lacie is a girl whom I dated a few times back when Ryan was six. She was jealous of Ryan and told me that my love for him was wrong.. She threatened to call the cops on me, but she got..taken care of and now I don't see her around anymore.)

I take a look at myself in the mirror; brush away the stray hairs out of my face and got down to see if Ryan was done or not. Surprisingly, he was.

"Daddy, I'm ready to go." he tells me with those bright amber eyes boring into mine.

"Baby," I chuckle, "you need to get dressed into something..different. Here, let daddy take you up to your room and help you choose out something."

He nodded. I give out a small smile and kiss his lips. "C'mon babe. I already know what you can wear."

"Can't I dress myself, daddy?" he whispers.

"Baby, you're too young." I tell him as we enter his room.

He nods sadly while I pick out an outfit for him. When I had it picked out, I told him, "Get undressed, hon."

"Daddy why do you have to watch me take off my clothes?" he asked with confusion onto his pretty little face.

"Honey, it's either get undressed by yourself or have me take off your clothes for you." firmness is evident in my normally calm voice which scares him into getting undressed before me.

Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. More beautiful than when he was five. He only seems to become more beautiful with age.

"Okay honey, here's your clothes that you will be wearing tonight." I give the clothes to him and a look of discomfort is visible on his face as my eyes trailed down to his boxers.

"Thank you, daddy." he mutters.

"No problem, baby." I tell him with a hug.

He seems nervous at the fact that I am watching him get dressed. I don't understand why, though. I've seen him get dressed loads of times over the years. Maybe he's feeling that my love for him is wrong. Maybe Ms. Weldman is brainwashing him into thinking that I am horrible person. Maybe that little Brent kid is secretly having him talk to counselors on the phone.

"Daddy? I'm done." he said to me while tugging at my arm.

"Okay then baby, let's go out." I replied slowly, my mind still thinking about why he looked scared when I watched him get dressed. My mind still wary about that 'Brent' kid and Ms. Weldman.

I am not insane. I am not overtly protective. I just love my child to death and never want to see him leave me. If he leaves me, then who will be there when he scraps his knee from falling off the bike or worse? No one. That's who. He needs me just as much as I need him.

But alas you all have never had a child. You don't understand what it is like to raise one, to hold one, to protect one all on your own..to love one. None of you know or fully understand love as much as I do and this boy is my love. Genuine love. He knows that and I know that.

But you will never understand..now will you?