1 Nothing Comes Cheap

Late last December the war began, and our family business suffered because of it. My father had the bright idea of opening a bar for soldiers to come in and rest and get a few drinks to calm the old nerves, his plan worked like a charm and business boomed but 3 months after the bar had opened the very soldiers that he welcomed with open arms shot and killed him over a stupid drink. My mother didn't last to long after that always looking at the door waiting for father to walk in, eventually she stopped eating and paid the price. After she died the bar closed down and i was left with little money the family had left, and now it was my turn to run the bar.

"Are you really going to re-open that old place?", A girl smiled beside Nicholas while they were walking home from school.

"Yeah, i just feel drawn to it, like it's my fate to run a bar", Nicholas smiled back at the girl and continued his rant. " My father had high hopes for it and in the end its the reason he died, so now its my responsibility.", Nicholas lowered his head and kept walking silently.

"Oh...right sorry i brought it up Nick", The girl frowned and patted Nicks back as an apology.

When I got home i went to a drawer that used to belong to my father and opened it. Inside was a photo of my father and a comically sized pair of scissors at the opening of his new bar the Faraway Seat. It was a tacky name, but the soldiers seemed to like it. I went there a few times as a kid and i was even there when my father was killed, it was a rainy day, and the shots rang out like a bell in a church the echo still haunts me to this day.

"kiddo I'm going to need you to go fetch some water for our guests!", my father smiled like he always would reassuring me in a way that warmed my soul.

"Okay!" I naively replied not knowing then that was the last thing I would ever say to him. I went out back and the rain washing the streets when I got back inside, I was carrying a heavy bucket and having some trouble, i heard some yelling and poked my head around the corner to see a soldier pull out his 1911 pistol and shoot my father over some schnapps. I saw my mother stand there with dead eyes looking at dad just watching like she saw his soul leave this world.

When it was all said and done, I had nightmares for 3 years about that day feeling it was my fault for leaving and getting water. His smile became a red flag whenever I had that nightmare. I was determined to run that bar from the ground up and succeed, nothing would stop me from honoring my father's memory.

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