"I think a red dress would suit you, sweetie. Yes, definitely a red dress! I will buy it later with your mother. And you also need white and red hair ornaments. Your hair is so soft and silky; you have to style them with beautiful hair ornaments! A dress isn't enough! Oh my, I can already see it. You will be the prettiest girl in the world!"

Misha couldn't stand it anymore and buried his flushed face in his hands, wishing he could just straight vanish and escape from the constant humiliation.

Oblivious to his despair, the old lady kept on rambling, switching from the red dress to a white one, saying that it would enhance his angel face and also give a feeling of purity. A little girl like her was still so innocent and candid. Therefore, they should take advantage of it. After that came the blue dress, then the green one; the old lady was determined to weigh the pros and cons of every color possible.

'Mom, Masha! Hurry up and save me!' silently cried Misha, who was on the verge of insanity. For a second, he even hoped Gabriel would show his ugly face and drew the old lady's attention. However, no one answered his prayers for a long time, which made him a bit anxious. His mother always came by early in the morning, and he wondered if something had happened to her. Perhaps, her body had finally broken down?

The boy shook his head. That couldn't be the case. His mother was stubborn and she wouldn't collapse for this much, not when her baby was still at the hospital; even half-dead, she would drag her body to her son's bedside and wait until he was out of danger before blacking out. Masha was also at home, so if something had happened, she would take care of their mother and nurse her back to health.

After comforting himself, Misha decided to wait patiently for them and think of something else to distract his poor brain from the old lady's nagging. However, he wasn't even able to let his thoughts wander for long and the old lady's voice had already brought him back to reality. Misha had almost lost all hope when a man entered the room, silencing everyone for a short second.

Since the boy was still holding his head, he didn't immediately notice him. He realized there was an extra person in the room when the old lady asked who he was. Only then did he sneak a glance between his fingers, and he instantly froze.

It was a tall man with broad shoulders and long legs. The black shirt and dark jeans he was wearing enhanced his athletic figure, making him appear somewhat imposing, but not bulky. He had a chiseled jawline, which was clean-shaven, and a roman nose. His grey eyes were piercing, and his platinum blond hair was relatively short, yet elegantly styled.

No matter where he went, with that heaven-defying appearance, he was bound to draw all the attention. Even the bookworm couldn't help but put aside his book and stare at the visitor, wondering who he was. The answer came fast enough, and it shook the two male patients so much so that their jaws dropped.

"I'm Misha's father," replied the man to the old lady's question, a smile on his lips.

No wonder the little boy was so cute and his sister, so beautiful! They both inherited their parents' genes. The mother was as pretty as a doll while the father was handsome beyond words. Heaven was truly unfair! When they looked at themselves, although they weren't utterly ugly, only a bit plain, they still felt like crying. Compared with this family of four, they were as cute as a bunch of c.o.c.kroaches. For the sake of their self-esteem, they resolutely decided to look elsewhere – they noticed that the white ceiling was actually quite fascinating.

The little boy could care less about his roommates' mood. He was too much taken aback by the sudden appearance of his father to bother with them. The ensuing panic that turned upside down his stomach also didn't help.

The moment he realized he had transmigrated into his younger self, Misha knew he would have to face his father sooner or later, but he didn't expect the man to cut short his business trip and show up without any warning. There were still a few days left before the end of June, yet the bastard was standing in his hospital room instead of meeting some business partners in Russia. How could he not be surprised?

Unsure if he wanted to run for it or beat the shit out of his father, Misha ultimately didn't move, not even lifting his little finger. He sat still as If he had become a statue. Only his heavy breathing betrayed the fact that he was a living being.

Seeing this, the man frowned, showing a hint of worry. "Misha? Are you alright?" Although he asked for his wellbeing first, he didn't wait for his son's answer and directly went to call the nurse over. Before he could leave the room, he heard his son's soft voice, and he stopped, swiftly turning back. His voice was so small that he almost didn't hear it.

"Yes?"

"I'm fine," repeated the child, not daring to lift his eyes and met his father's.

"Liar. I'm calling the nurse over," said his father in a firm tone. Who did Misha think he was trying to fool? Anyone with a brain could tell his breathing was too fast as well as irregular. Moreover, the boy was panting while clutching his head, not even moving an inch. This little rascal was usually so energetic, bouncing everywhere and talking non-stop, so how could the man not notice that there was something off with his son?

Helpless, the child watched the back of his father disappear into the corridor – according to the man, waiting for the nurse to come after pushing the nurse call button would take too much time. In his mind, his son had the time to die at least three times before the doctor arrived. Thus, he had better go fetch a nurse himself instead of obediently waiting for one to come. This way, they would also call the doctor sooner. Sadly, he couldn't directly grab a doctor in passing. Otherwise, he would have done it.

Misha couldn't help but bit his lips, taking deep breaths by the nose to calm down. The boy closed his eyes. His c.h.e.s.t hurt as if someone was trying to crush it, and it seemed like there was something stuck in his throat.

The last memory he had of his father wasn't glorious. After drinking every day for many years, he had long lost this handsome appearance of his. He had a beer belly and had forgotten how to use a shaver. His grey eyes were haggard, and he wore rags that didn't do him justice. He had nothing to do with this confident man who beamed with ambition.

Most of all, he didn't look at him with so much concern and fatherly love. Following his mother's death, all that was left inside those beautiful eyes when his father's gaze landed on him was hatred and resentment.

'And here I thought I would be angry to death when I saw him,' mocked Misha in his heart, feeling upset deep down for his lack of reaction. He actually didn't know how he felt.

After the beating and the harsh words that became the everyday occurrence, Misha had forgotten that his father did dearly love him once upon a time. Like his sister, like his mother, Misha was his precious baby, his one and only son. However, he lost all of his affection towards his younger child the day the woman he loved died.

No matter how much Misha blamed Gabriel, he knew deep down that the only one responsible for his mother's death was him. It had been an accident, but his carelessness couldn't be denied. In a fit of anger, he had run away from Gabriel and crossed the road without looking left and right. Then, his mother had bolted over and pushed him out of the way. The one who should have been hit by the car was him, not his mother.

Back then, Gabriel had taken the blame, saying that it was his fault and that he shouldn't have teased the boy. Misha couldn't even remember what he had said. He only knew that he had been displeased with the teenager, like always, and that he had barely stepped out of the car before running away. After that, there was a heart-wrenching scream, the feeling of a hand pushing his back, and the sound of screeching tires. Then, his mother was lying on the bloody ground, motionless.

The diner at his grandparent's house, which didn't even have the chance to start, ended in such a tragic way.

His father loved his mother more than anything. He would have given up the world for her. After her death, he had to face the one who caused her to disappear from his life abruptly. Every day, they ate at the same table, shared the same house, and bumped into each other a few times a day. It was unbearable. Even if it was his son, he couldn't forgive him, and as he drunk more and more, his reason slowly gave out, and he started to vent his frustration, anger, and sadness on his son. This, Misha had understood it the very first time his father hit him. That was one of the reasons he didn't retaliate in the beginning, telling himself to grin and bear it.

In the end, the young Misha also felt guilty and thought he deserved it. This vicious circle lasted until the day Gabriel found out what was happening when he and Masha were out. Then, he set the record straight, sending his father to the hospital with colorful curses before admonishing the boy for hours.

That day, Gabriel was a nag, making him promise over and over again to tell him if anything like this were to happen in the future. At that time, amiss the annoyance, Misha also felt very warm. Little did he know that this good big brother would turn out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The boy sighed and softly whispered to himself, "My life is a freaking mess."