The laundry area was in the same room where he slept.
Since it only takes one to the job it is the perfect place for a “test” site to be kept.
On any day, at any moment, behind you he could be lurking.
You both know you can not force your way past him, which is why he is Smirking.
“Close your eyes, hold out your hands,” is what he demands.
There is no other option, you have no choice, you do as he commands.
It is long and kinda slender and in your hand all it does is shake.
With eyes open now I stare at him in confusion that is not hard to fake.
Put it in his hands and walk away, there is nothing you can say.
A few weeks later you have a chore to do, that needs to be done.
The coast is clear, or so you thought, for when you leave, you see in the darkness A silhouette that you can not outrun.
“Close your eyes, hold out your hands,” is what he demands.
There is no other option, you have no choice, you do as he commands.
You hold something both squishy and hard, that you never felt before.
Open your eye and you are surprised, drop your hand, and stare at the floor.
Every time in your room you are puzzled and ask yourself if this is what you Should expect from a father.
One thing is for is sure is it feels wrong and is a bother.
Every now and then for a while these “test" transpire.
Every time he seems angered that you do not have the same desire.
He did not seem to be doing anything to anyone but you.
Knowing that, you do not know what to do.
If he stops, does that mean that is over or that he has moved on.
If he stops, what is a pro and what is a con?
You could try to make him satisfied.
A thought like that only makes you feel horrified.
Coward, Coward, COWARD, is all you think and still sometimes think.
You write those words in your journal of depressing thoughts with what you Wish sometimes is blood, but rather is ink.