He took his usual seat at the bar just like he did every night. The bartender poured the man his usual drink. He sat lifelessly and distant on the old bar stool. Then, once he had a glass of whiskey in hand the filthy run down old man sprung to life. The alcohol was all that kept him going. After all he was his father’s son.

This wasn’t who he was or who he wanted to be. This was who he was told to be. Yes, he was forced to be this way, “A big boy doesn’t want to disappoint mommy, no he doesn’t, and if he does he will never see mommy again.” The words rang out clearer and clearer with every gulp of whiskey he choked down. He heard his mother’s words everywhere he went, and the day she left replayed every night in his dreams.

It was a young summer day and little Tyler had hopes of going to the park. But, mommy had other plans. She emerged from her room with a short rope and an envelope.

“Mommy, can we go to the park?” the naïve six-year-old asked.

“Not today baby. Mommy has something else planned for us,” she replied stoically.

“Is it a surprise?”

“Yes, baby. It’s a surprise.”

“Then, Tyler’s mommy grabbed him by the hand, and they walked out of the apartment. They walked a few blocks and came to an old beat up apartment Tyler had never seen before. They walked up the rickety stairs to apartment nine.

“Now Tyler we are going to play a game now,” mommy began as she started tying Tyler’s arm to the door handle, “I’m going to tie you here so no one takes you. But, when a big man comes you need to give him this letter and he will untie you. I want you to go with this man and grow up just like him. Okay?”

“Mommy, I’m scared,” Tyler cried.

“I know baby, but you’re a big boy now. A big boy doesn’t want to disappoint mommy, no he doesn’t, and if he does he will never see mommy again.”

His mother kissed his head, and he watched as she vanished down the stairs. Hours went by and then an old man showed up. The man was tall with a long, gray beard filled with what looked to be like crumbs and dirt. His eyes bright red like the monsters in Tyler’s story books. He also reeked of beer and cheap whiskey. The man worked to free Tyler’s arm from the door. Once freed, Tyler handed the monstrous man the envelope. The man ripped the note out of Tyler’s hand and began to read the letter to himself, growling as he did so. Then, he threw Tyler inside the musty apartment.

“When will my mommy be back,” Tyler asked hesitantly.

“I’ve asked the question before kid. You don’t need an answer. You can figure it out. Now drink this and go to bed. You can sleep on the couch,” then man mumbled as he handed Tyler a bottle of whiskey. Tyler did as he was told as he laid on the matted couch.

He did this every night for the rest of his life, and he remembered this day every night of his life. Even though the alcohol blurred all reality it still kept the memory clear.

Tyler chugged his last drink and walked home. He went to his fridge, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and went to bed. After all he was his father’s son, and he didn’t want to disappoint mommy.