Peter got a telegram this morning that his father had passed away. He died of a heart attack in his sleep. He was still in prison awaiting trial. Although I don't like how that man treated me, I am glad that he did not suffer the agony of a painful death. Peter has mixed emotions. Even though his father wasn't there emotionally for him, he did provide Peter with the means to great experiences. After he told me the news, he went for a walk to process it.
When he came back, he decided since he had to take care of his father's belongings, that he might as well move back home. He wanted me to go with him. He reasoned that since my father was no longer a threat, that there was nothing for me to be afraid of. But, I can't. I like this city better than the old. And, after the memories I have there, I don't want to go back. I want to start my life new in this city.
Peter was quite disappointed. I could see it in his face. Although, he said he understood, I don't think he really did. He gave me the left over money that he took from his dad. He said he wouldn't need it anymore. He said there should be enough to get me by until I get a job. He gave me a hug, and walked out of my room. I have a feeling I won't ever see him again. As soon as he left I started crying.