'Sins of the Father'

Pentonville Prison
June 18, 2025

Fifteen Father's Days he had spent in here. Fifteen Father's Days not seeing his son playing in the park. Not that he had spent any of the three times the holiday had come around before he came here actually with his only child. The danger that surrounded his previous life had always paralyzed him with fear. Fear that his 'business' would touch his son and his son's mother. Fear had kept him on the very fringes of his boy's life, turned him into the man who would glance casually at the little blond boy playing with his older brother on the swings, eating french fries at the local diner with his mother.
He sighed as he ran his hands through his greying hair, eyes squinting at an old, frayed and fading photograph taped to the wall. A picture of a little baby boy and a beautiful glowing young mother, taken when he hadn't been afraid, hadn't let others rule his life. The battle-hardened prisoner traced his finger along the curve of her jaw, the way he had in his other life, if he closed his eyes he could still see the way her eyes had sparkled when he had placed their son in her arms for the first time, the way she smelled when she walked into the safe house...the wind at her back, the snow swirling around her.

Fear and regret. That's what he had to show for his life. Except for one thing. His son. The baby he had given up so his life would be good, amazing. Right now, graduating from high school. Going off to college. Unburdened by the legacy of being 'Jason Morgan's son'. An amazing life, full of laughter and love and endless possibilities. If he had done nothing else right, he had given his son the one thing he could. Freedom. He wondered as he sat there, what would he do? What would he become? A family legacy of medicine might lead him to become a doctor. A childhood love of motorcycles and cars might have him become a mechanic. His mother's love of art would lead him to expressing himself in paint. Or maybe he would travel the world the way his father had done, before his 'responsibilities' tied him down. Anything he wanted to do, anything he chose, it could be his, and for that reason alone, he had no regrets for making the choices he had made.

His head lifted as he heard the new noises on the block. The shouts and whistles as the new prisoners were led in by the guards. The sounds meant to intimidate the new, often very young, prisoners. He knew that later, some of the sounds would be sobs of pain as some of the unlucky were assaulted, sobs of loneliness as the reality of the situation set in and the new inmates began to realize how very 'real' their life had become. That it wasn't like TV or the movies, that they weren't going to come from this hell unscathed. He shrugged and picked up the old, battered travel guide on his bed and continued to read the book he had memorized years ago. They had promised him a new version, but he knew that he would never see it. It didn't matter anyway. He was here for life, for taking the life of a serial killer, in the defense of a boy that wasn't even his. He let his mind drift away from this place, so that he was startled when he heard the key in the door of his cell.

"Hey Morgan! Brought you some company."

And as he gazed into the cool blue gaze of the young man in front of him, he knew. That the sins of the father would always come to rest upon the heads of his children.

"Hi Dad. Happy Father's Day"