Anith

The slam of the tailgate being closed snaps him back, and his Father is pulling himself into the driver's seat. He doesn’t look up, but Father doesn’t start the truck immediately. 

“I’m proud of you, did good for a first time.” And Felix wants to scoff, or burst into tears, he doesn’t know.

Felix isn’t proud of himself, he can’t be, he feels sick, numb, and disgusted with himself. He doubts Father is actually proud of him, he’s never heard him say it before, he doesn’t know if he’s being honest. Mum tells him she's proud of him, not Father, he’s never even felt a positive way about Felix, so why now? After Felix has committed a heinous deed and they took the body with them, there should be no reason to be proud. 

The only thing Father is proud of is his own collection of a kill count. Why would Felix’s matter? Maybe his Father just wants Felix to be like him. And that’s a terrifying thought. 

“Hey.” Father says loud, “I just gave you a compliment, take it.” He’s growing irritated, though when is he not irritated? 

Felix keeps his head and voice low, and croaks out, “Thanks.” But he’s not thankful. He isn’t thankful Father took him out here in the first place, he isn’t thankful Father made him shoot that deer, and he sure as hell isn’t thankful he made him drag it back with them.