Danielle's Take

Born To Rock

Danielle

Dear Bernie,

 Or Dad. Or whatever I should call you.

You’ve set a kind of curse upon me, a rotten one, or so I thought. I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life without ever meeting you. A simple greeting would have made my day, my month, or my year. But, me, as naïve as I am, thought my father was to be King Maggot? Ha, I should have caught on. He has too much of a heart to be you, anyway. With a mask on his face identical to yours, he could never be you.

The dirty, sneaky tongues you spoke to my mother, you spoke to my girlfriend, Melinda.

How dare you? Do you stoop that low? No matter the age…you knew Melinda was my close friend, and just turned eighteen the month before. But you did not care, correct? You went beyond boundaries. But, I guess that’s what all McMurphys’ seem to do, hm?

All of my life, well since I was eight, I’ve wondered who McMurphy was. Now that I am aware, I’m proud to say I’m a McMurphy because my Father pretty much IS King Maggot, the greatest. Other days, I have to stop seizing to remember that it is you, my “father”, and I feel ashamed.

Thanks for nothing,

Your SON,

The Young Republican