text: The man straightened his collar as he looked into the mirror, dreading having the "talk" with his son, Simon. No not that talk, a different talk. Simon got into a fight at school today. The principal said Simon didn't start it. That wasn't what concerned him, what did was the condition of the young man his son beat. He closed his eyes and tried to come up with the right words. His thoughts quickly turned to prayers, because he had no idea what to say. After awhile he opened his eyes, he need not make his son wait any longer. He had sent Simon up to his room right after they got home from the meeting with the principal. "It's time to bite the bullet." He encouraged himself as he left the bathroom. He walked to Simon's room where he found the door open, waiting for him. His son was sitting at his computer desk, he let out a sigh to let him know he was there then walked over and sat on the bed. His son tuned to face him. "Dad, I swear I didn't mean to hurt him that bad. He just kept on and on. He slapped me and I know you always say turn the other cheek, but I couldn't. I had no choice something inside of me just took over. I FELT LIKE A MONSTER! I promise all I wanted was for him to leave me alone." As his son spoke tears filled his eyes, he could tell he thought he had hurt his father. Simon's shirt was ripped and his knuckles was bloody. "I understand more then you know." He said with a smile. "You do?" Simon said shocked. "Yes, I guess you could say temper runs in the family." "I have never seen you even get cranky before." Simon protested. "Ah, but I am old. I have had many more years then you have to learn to control it." "How can I be sure it won't happen again?" Simon asked as tears ran down his face. "You should be kind to everyone, even the undeserving. It is not our place to judge. Turn the other cheek, know that if you don't bad things are to come, just like today. As you get older, the bad things worsen. There are even things you can watch for and avoid like I do." "Like what daddy?" "Confrontation, arguments or anything that may make you angry. If you have a thought or have a hard time calming down, go to somewhere you can be alone. Then yell and do whatever you need to get it out. I like a dark place personally." "Like your study, is that why you had it sound proofed?" Simon asked. His father not answering rose to his feet. Simon stood up and hugged his father. "So I'm not in trouble?" "Of course not. How bad did he hurt you?" He asked. "My lip was bleeding, I think it stopped though. I'm okay." Simon answered. "Go change your shirt and wash your hands, we are going for ice cream. That feels good on a busted lip." His father said with a smile leaving the room. He could see Simon was happy, but he was not. He closed the door to his study and walked into the bathroom. "Pick on my son." He said as he began to lose his temper. "Slap my son." His heart raced and his hands stiffened and snapped. "Bust his lip." His face tightened. "Made him feel like a monster?" He asked himself. He slammed his once human hands into the wall, he slammed his foot into the toilet. Water ran all over his feet as though a fresh cooling effect. He rested his clawed hands on the sink and in snapped and cracked under the pressure. His gaze turned to the mirror. Fangs, slit eyes that even to this day remind him of a cat and bone piercing his skin making horns. "A monster." He whispers to himself. A voice from deep within him speaks, "one day, you will have to tell him. He is my son too." "Dad? Are you ready?" Simon's voice called out from the study. "Oh yeah, just gotta change my shoes, I'll meet you in the car." He listened until he heard the door close to his study. His gaze returned to the mirror now a man who is growing old looks at him instead of the beast that lives inside. "I know that." He tells it, he knows it can hear him. It's always listening. "Today isn't that day." He combed down his whitening hair and changed into dry shoes and met Simon outside. "Dang dad, what took so long?" "We have to stop by Lowe's, I need to place an order." He answered. "Toilet in your study is messing up again?!" Simon asked. "I guess I'm not the plumber I thought I was." He answered with a smile. "Geez dad, I would have gave up by now. You have the patience of a saint.