“Tobais…” The tall brunette man peaked his head into the living room, pushing up his glasses casually.

“I’m going to the market. Are you coming?” He raised an eyebrow at the boy who was sitting at the piano. The boy looked up at his father and blinked, pushing up his own glasses. “A-ah, yes sir.” He nodded and stood, putting the lid over the piano keys. He grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair and followed his father out of the house.
“We won’t be gone long, and we’re looking for only a few things. And mind you, if it’s over 40 euros, I’m not getting it.” The man told him sternly.

They walked peacefully for quite some time, hand in hand, as they watched the people walking past. It was a peaceful afternoon in the city of Vienna. Kiosk operators called eagerly to people, selling their goods, newspapers, or whatever else they had to offer, and making small talk with pedestrians and passers-by, and though the business of it all created the Illusion that nobody had any time, the people were quite kind.

“Ah, here.” The man held the door open for the boy and stepped inside the market, beginning to browse.
“Father!” The boy stuck closely to the man’s side. He sighed and dislodged the boy from his jacket.

“How old are you now, Tobais?”

“…12..”

“Then act your age!” His father spat at him, swiftly taking a step away and beginning to browse the shelves again, leaving his son behind.

Tobais sighed and watched his father’s back as he walked farther and farther down the aisle. His father had always been hard to please or impress, as well as very strict. The boy glared at his father from behind, aggressively shoving his glasses up his nose and almost gave himself a black eye.

“…Father…” a defiant spark appeared in the boys eyes. “Father, let’s get some cheese for fondue….and perhaps some hazelnuts and cinnamon so you can make your Torte!” He smiled sweetly, plucking different items off of shelves and dropping them into the shopping cart. He could feel his father’s wallet growing thinner and thinner, and his temper growing shorter and shorter.

“Idiot!” Tobais flinched back at the hard smack his father delivered to his face.

“What did I tell you before hand, you fool!” His father glared down at him, slamming things back on the shelves. “What a disappointment! You can’t even listen to simple directions? I thought I raised you better, you stupid boy!”

Tobais took a step back with every word his father spat at him, earning more and more distance between each other, his eyes growing wide and then narrow in an acidic glare. He then abruptly turned on his heel and began to storm out of the marking disregarding all the comments his father began to yell at his back. He kept his pace, walking out of the market and bolting down the sidewalk. It didn’t take long before he began to hear his father’s voice behind him.

“Tobi!! Tobais, get back here this instant!” His father called, huffing and puffing as he tried to catch up with the boy. Tobais smirked to himself slightly as he continued to run, but pausing when he heard the honking of a car horn.


He looked up to see a car speeding towards him, and the sign across the street warning pedestrians not to walk. The car honked again as it advanced, but Tobais was frozen. He tried to pick up his heavy feet, but to no avail. He watched in horror as the car drew closer and closer, the driver practically leaning on the horn.

“Don’t just stand there—Move!!” His father yelled.

There was a screech of brakes, and Tobais was pushed aside by an incredible force, and then his world grew quiet. Very quiet. ‘Have I been…hit..?” Tobais wondered. He hadn’t felt any pain. Or at least, none that he could comprehend. Maybe he was dead…The sound began to flood back to his ears. People yelling, footsteps shuffling closely.

He opened an eye nervously and sat up, feeling nothing. He looked around, past the jungle of many people’s legs. He hadn’t been hit…his father had.

“…F-FATHER!!” Tobais pushed himself up and fumbled over himself, pushing past the people, landing hard on his knees as he reached his father.

He had never seen him so weak, so…broken. He looked like a rag doll who had been abused by children for far too long. The colour in his father’s eyes were glazed, and his jacket stained crimson. His breathing was faint as he struggled to force breaths in and out.

“Ich liebe dich, Tobais…” ‘I love you.’ His father said weakly, smiling wearily up at his dear son. Slowly, his eyes began to fade more and more until they were empty.

Tobais let out an anguished cry and slumped beside his father. That was the first and last time he’d ever hear those words again…