I stand with my six-year-old daughter, Renesmee at the front of her classroom. Though she is only a child, she is more mature, and almost grave, than any adult I know.
It is parents' day at her school. Each child brings in both their parents, no matter how busy they are, and talks about them to the class. It is unheard of to bring only one parent to school.
But I am the only parent she has brought.
She waits patiently for her turn. She is called Renesmee Carlie Swan-Cullen so she is near the end.
As we take our place at the front of the class, every child gasps and every parent shushes them. Except for one father who snickers.
"Look son. Clearly another scumbag daughter of a deadbeat father and a mother who couldn't keep her legs closed."
An uncomfortable silence. He has said what every person in the room is thinking. So nobody rebukes him. Nobody says a word.
My daughter does not cry. She does not shout. She has had to grow up too fast; her skin is too thick for this cruel mans' words to affect her. She knows the truth.
"My daddy was a good man." She says in a clear, high voice. "My daddy was a hero. When I was four, two years ago, I had a birthday tea party. My daddy dressed up as a princess for me. He didn't want to. But it made me laugh. He promised me that on each and every one of my birthdays, he would make me laugh just as much as I did on that day, just over a year ago.
"I didn't realise he would break that promise so soon.
"He was a fireman. He saved lives. He had a burn going down his arm. But that wasn't why he left me.
"He left me because a bad man ended his life. Exactly a year ago, an evil man came to our house. He hated daddy. I didn't know why anyone would hate my daddy. But he did.
"Mommy was out; it was just me and him. I was playing with my Barbie's, and daddy was reading. He has his glasses on. I loved his glasses. He let me choose them. They had big green rims, and he looked like a frog. No matter how busy he was, whenever he wore his glasses he would put me on his back and hop around ribbiting.
"The man banged on the door. Daddy peeked through the curtain and his face went pale. "Renesmee, princess, I love you. You know that don't you?" I nodded and smiled as best as I could. "I love you more daddy." He smiled and told me that was impossible. Somehow, I knew something awful would happen. I clung to him. He kissed me on the top of my head and buried his face in my hair. The man banged on the door again, louder than before. "I love you, my princess Renesmee. I will always love you and your mommy. Never forget that."
He scribbled a note and told me to give it to mommy when I next saw her. The bad man began to kick the door. Daddys' face went completely white. He told me to run upstairs, call 911, then hide in the top part of my wardrobe. That was the best hiding place in the whole house.
"I grabbed the phone, crawled into my wardrobe and called 911. "hello, 911 emergency?" said a woman. She was chewing gum. "Hello?" I said. "an angry man came to our door. Daddy went pale and told me to hide in my wardrobe. I'm frightened, please help us."
I heard the man shouting and daddy talking in what I called his "who ate my cookie voice". I began to cry. I curled up with my clothes and sobbed as silently as I could.
The lady asked me more questions. She sounded calm and I clung to that. She said someone would be there within two minutes. I prayed that would be enough time.
"My prayers were not answered.
"As the lady was talking to me, trying to keep me calm, I heard a huge crack. It sounded like the air was breaking up around me. My head span. I heard the door slam and I jumped down, leaving the phone behind, and looked out of the window. The man ran out of my house, but before he left, he turned and stared, nodded once, then kept running.
"I ran downstairs, and daddy lay on the floor in a pool of blood. But he was still alive. He stared at me. "Re . . . nesmee. So . . . beautiful. I . . . love you . . . so much." I lay down beside him. I snuggled close to him, knowing he was leaving me.
"The police came, as did the ambulance. But they were too late.
"So I'm not a scumbag. My daddy was not a deadbeat. In his life, cut too short by a man who thought he loved my mommy, he saved one hundred and twelve lives. It was unfair that he died. But he lives on in my heart"
She turned to me, and buried her face in the folds of my dress. I held her close. Every child was in tears. Every mother was holding her child. Every father was holding his family close to him. Only one family was not holding each other. The boys father who sneered at my daughter, who, at six years old, had experience worse grief than this ignorant man would in his whole life, is silent. The boy holds his mother, who is glaring at her husband through tears in her eyes.
My daughter and I walk out of the classroom, holding hands, heads held high. We never looked back.
Feel free to review!
Just a little thing I had rattling around in my head. Could've been worse I suppose
Lu x