I landed on my back; the wind completely knocked out of me. I sat up clumsily on top of the books trying to breathe. When I could, an awkward moan sputtered out alongside it. I was really crying now because it hurt. Everything hurt. I scrunched into myself and started bawling despite how I really didn't want to.
Now wasn't the time to be acting stupid, but I'd just done the stupidest thing I'd ever done since I'd let my sister jump off the second highest rung of the ladder.
I moaned and sniveled and then I rolled down and started to kick and hit the ground. I was throwing the biggest tantrum, and I didn't really even want to know why, because of course there was a reason. There was a reason?
Then I remembered that that wasn't the last time I'd done something really stupid. I could remember every sleepless night I'd had dreaming up that woman's face in every lurking corner.
My house wasn't safe from her; no where was. I remembered her laugh, her eyes, her bra, her-
But I didn't want to remember anything more: I screamed to lose concentration. There was a loud shout above me which made me cringe.
"What is going on?"
Big hands grabbed both my sides and heaved me upwards to come face to face with my dad. Only I didn't look into his face because I thought I might get a scar if I did. He shook me.
"What is going on?"
He repeated himself in matched volume. I tried to shrink away, but he held firm and shook me again.
"Dracha?"
I started to full out cry again. I didn't want to tell him. I was sorry. I was sorry for everything. All I wanted was to go… somewhere.
To Mommy: I wanted to go to Mom.
I glanced at my dad; I knew he was trying with all his patience not to hurt me, but there I was at fault, blubbering like a two-year-old. I wanted to explain. I was crying too much to say anything.
"Did you do this?"
I nodded my head and a loud moan escaped after it as my face contorted to hold back a wail. My dad's face turned grimmer even though he'd already known it was my fault.
"Why?"
My voice box stopped issuing sounds in a pause. That was a very good question. I didn't know what it was, but it was at the back of my head and felt like an axe wedged deep inside never to leave me.
My tear ducts stopped working too, and I stared off over his shoulder into the hallway.
"I don't know."
It was a lame answer, but I couldn't help but feel that that was the answer. The answer was I didn't know and was too tired to care anymore to try.
"You don't know? Dracha, what has gotten into you?"
I mumbled.
"What?"
"I don't know!"
He rolled his head back and closed his eyes taking in a deep breath. I watched him because I could see now that he wasn't going to hurt me. Inside I wondered where that idea had even come from: Daddy would never hurt me if I was crying. His voice was startlingly quiet.
"Dracha, you have to stop doing this. Ever since you got lost- it- it- it just doesn't add up!"
I was suddenly desperate.
"I'm sorry Daddy!"
He paused almost like he was catching his breath.
"…It's okay, Dracha… I wanted to redecorate this room anyway."
He smiled a little, but I wasn't saying sorry for the room. I mean I was sorry about it; I just wasn't so concerned about it as I was the other mistake I'd made. I was really sorry about that. People don't just get scarred for no reason, so I had to have done something to set it off. I was sorry for that. I was also sorry my daddy couldn't help me.
"I'm sorry…"
I wanted it to sink into him as he watched me with worried eyes. It was the weirdest moment I'd ever had with him; just us, standing in a library with all its books trashed and the ladder askew. Then he hugged me tightly. The last of my tears came down silently. I did not return the hug, but inside I was soaking up every moment of it as he gently rocked back and forth, him on his knees and me standing stick straight.
And I felt safe again. He picked me up and I clung to him, resting my head at the crook of his neck feeling the roughness of his unshaven face as our cheeks touched before I laid my head down on his shoulder. Dad had had a busy day today, I could tell. Inwardly I was very glad that he still had time for me, and I was very, very happy that he didn't leave my side for the rest of the day or at night when I asked if I could sleep in his bed, and he'd said yes.
