Everyday Life I

The whole month almost seems almost like a dream now. A terrible, horrifying, and unpleasant dream. But still a dream and not a nightmare. . . Though the same may not be so true for dad. He's had night terrors for a couple months now, experiencing fiasco after fiasco, and I might not have helped as much as I should have. . . No, I can't keep lying to myself. I helped him detrimentally. Afterall, I did try to kill him. Not one of my proudest moments but yes. Me, the 7 year old adoptive son tried to kill him, and I damn well almost succeeded (unintentionally.)

But I think all's well for now ye?

I mean. We're both still alive so it's… nice to be here, that sort of thing.

Oh yes. Back to the main focus of what I wanted to talk about. Our house is. . . trashed. And I just found out that we didn't even have a second house! Not even a summer residence for vacation purposes. That is why, we are headed back to New York.

I have no idea where Father has been these past couple of days, but he has been quite. . . What is the word? Jittery? No, no. . . Ecstatic? Hmm. . almost. Ecstatic and very fiddle-footed. I honestly think I might have made him Bi-polar. He doesn't seem much different from before though, just slightly more. . . exaggerated. Yes. That's the expression that best defines it. He's more like an exaggerated version of himself now. Not different, but more.

We decided to go over to Stark Towers and stay there for a couple of days before we find a new home. In the meantime, he insisted that I do some online shopping for a new wardrobe and furnishings for my temporary bed room and facilities.

Be that as it may, his excitement is quite worrying. After all, I smell blood and antiseptics. I now know that dad is an excellent actor, but he could not hide everything. Every now and then, if he stretches or turns his body too much, he will twitch in pain.

Is he still recovering from the mandarin bombing? Or from that fight he had with the 'scalding hot' people? Or. . . from me? No. . . It couldn't be me. Afterall I only hurt what's inside his head, not below it.

I shook my head not wanting to dwell on it, lest I learn the truth I didn't want to hear.

"Anything wrong son?"

"Hm?"

I glanced up from the screen and was bewildered to see dad's worried gaze. Only then did I notice that my eyebrows were scrunched up and I was wearing the worst frown I had made in months.

Pulling a grin on my face, I smile at him to prevent him from worrying any further.

"Oh it's nothing father. There's just some curtains I found with the most intricate design, but I just couldn't find it in the right colors."

"Oh?"

He moved his hands to the hand rests on his lazy boy couch-chair thing. But I got up before he did, rushing to his side and carefully pushing him back down,

"No need dad. I'll just sit beside you!"

The jet was smaller than the average plane, but considering there were only 2 passengers, 2 flight attendants, 1 chief, and 2 pilots, It was more than enough. Very roomy if I do say so myself. I strolled to the chair beside dad's and pressed a button to make it move sideways until there was no space left between the two chairs.

Sitting down, I propped my arm on the arm rest while holding up the tablet showing some silky black curtains with snake-patterned embroidery in silver.

"I want it green and silver. Not black and silver. Black and silver gives it an emo-goth vibe which contrasts greatly with the Baroque style I was going for."

"Wouldn't boys your age prefer something along the lines of Star Wars curtains and Hero-themed bed sheets?"

"I'm seven dad. Not four."

"What's the difference? You're still a kid."

"I'm not a kid!"

"If you are my son, then you are a kid no matter how old you get."

"I'm already receiving my High School Diploma! Not to mention I'm going off to college this coming spring as well."

"Since when did I send you off to High School? I thought you were still in Elementary? And I am not sending my 7 year old boy off to Uni."

"What? But daaad- That's not fair!"

"It is not unfair and no buts."

"This is child neglect! Article 26 verse 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that everyone has the right to education and higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit! I earned my High School Diploma so I deserve to go to University! Besides, I already sent in my applications."

"Well Article 26 verse 3 states that Parents have a prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their children. Do not argue with me son. I know the Law and the way around it like the back of my hand. And how did you pay for those applications?"

"Venmo. I published several Abstracts and Thesis to the American Chemistry Society, American Institute of Biological Sciences during my free time for some extra cash. You can do anything online these days."

"Uhuh. I suppose you received a full scholarship?"

"Yeah! I got full offers from Oxford and Manchester, a half-scholarship from Brown, and quarter-from Harvard and Yale. But I really want to go to Oxford!"

"hmmm. . . Fine, you win."

Dad raised his hands up in surrender, and a smirk rose on his face. I know that smirk. It's the proud smirk.

He look at me in the eye with pride and joy shining in his eyes.

"That's my boy."

He rubbed my head ruffling my hair, and it was warm. His hand was warm and it made my heart fell warm but. Not. The. Hair.

"Stop! I spent 20 full minutes on that!"

He gave a hearty laugh, wincing a little probably from some pain, but he doesn't seem to care as he continuous on laughing. I really shouldn't make him laugh. Those winces are very concerning.

[Good Afternoon Mr. Stark. We have arrived in New York. The time is 5:45pm with sunny skies. Please fasten your seatbelts as we will be descending shortly. Thank you.]

I pressed another button on the chair which made it go back to its original position while I fastened my seatbelt. Storing my tablet in my bad, I fixed my bird's nest of hair in my reflection on the window. And couldn't help but glance down at the city bellow.

I guess this is my first time viewing New York from high above. My first impression was that it was. . . organized?

All the streets were very straight, but the buildings that varied in size made it seem rather disorderly.

I think I see the airport! It was a long strip of cement on the left edge of the island right next to Hudson River. I think I also see Stark Towers! That weirdly shaped skyscraper that was sticking out like a sore thumb!

. . . Am I being overly enthusiastic? A deep part within me counters that I'm becoming more childish, but why would I want to listen to it? No, I'm just enthusiastic. Afterall, I get to leave that cold and empty house for good! No more Jarvis lurking over my shoulder. And, no more sleepless nights from the honking of cargo ships.

"There she is sport. Avengers Tower. I can't wait for you to meet everyone!!!"

Wait. . . what? Avengers Tower?!?

Am I. . . missing something?

I scrutinize his beaming smile. He's smiling even brighter for that stupid building than my Oxford scholarship! You disappointment of a father! How dare you entertain the idea of a building even more so than my scholarship!