Sammy

You raise your clenched fist to the door of the house, hesitating a moment before you knock on it. You tense, feeling the child safety officer breathing down your neck.

A tired-looking woman answers the door. "Hello. You must be here for Sammy. Please come in," she says, gesturing for you and the officer to enter. You assume she's the foster mother.

The house's interior is minimalistic. The living room you’re lead to is plain; simple furniture and decorations adorn it. You're greeted and invited to sit down on their couch by the woman's husband, who seems disinterested in you, almost bored. He and his wife leave you and the officer alone as they retreat upstairs to retrieve your child.

You haven't seen Sammy, your only son, in almost two years. You remember his miserable cries as government officers ripped him away from you- out of the rundown ute you were attempting to live with him in and into a safe, warm foster home. You remember promising him you'd visit as much as you could. You never did. In between the multiple jobs you fought tooth and nail to keep, you simply could not find time to visit. But now, you have at last earned yourself a stable job, a steady income and a secure apartment. You're no longer broke and living in a car. You're no longer an alcoholic. You are finally fit to be a father. Fit to raise Sammy.

You run your hand through your hair, wondering what's taking the foster parents so long to get Sammy to you. You glance at the officer. He's scribbling something down in his clipboard.

The parents are finally coming back down the stairs and trailing behind them is...

Sammy.

He’s standing there at the bottom of the staircase, unmoving, his dull eyes boring into yours. You don’t remember him ever being like this. You remember a child who tried his hardest to keep a smile on his face, who was always finding ways to keep a smile on yours, whose eyes could light up the sky- eyes that used to match your own. The boy standing before you has a firm frown frozen on his face, his expression conflicted.

Not knowing what else to do, you drop to one knee and open your arms.

He runs towards you and collides into your chest, hugging it tight. Your shirt begins to moisten as tears flow from his eyes.

“I missed you, Dad,” he mumbles.

"Sammy, I..." you say. Your voice starts to break to pieces, just like your heart.

“...I missed you too.”

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