DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are not mine, all others are.
Author's Note: This is a continuation of my story, "Dying Young," told from their daughter's point of view. Please r/r!
Daddy's Girl
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. My father and I have always been very close. I am definitely my father's daughter, not my mother's. She doesn't understand me at all. My father never completely did either, actually. But he represented everything that I wanted--a normal Human life. My mother has always been cool and aloof, as though she exists slightly removed from the rest of us. My father always assured me that my mother loved me, but I never completely believed him. She never kissed me or hugged me like my father did. She was never loving or affectionate. She has always been unknown to me. For my entire life, I have looked at her and wondered who she was. My father is another matter. He is so open and cheerful. I always felt like I knew him. He never hid himself. But my mother lives a shadowed existence, keeping layers between her and the rest of us.
It scares me to think that he is gone forever, that I will no longer be able to turn to him for love and support. My father's very presence was magical--he had a way of making me feel as if the universe itself smiled upon me. Whenever he was around, the world seemed like a magical, happy place. But now he is gone, and all around me lurk shadows and demons. I can no longer escape the truth that runs through my blood: I am a half-breed. I am abnormal and strange. I am a freak. Those words have taunted me my whole life, but when my father was alive, they disappeared. He did not hear the taunts that followed us wherever we went. He was blind to the stares of passerbys at the strange family: a Human father, a Vulcan mother, and two half-breed children. We were his family and he loved us. Period. That was all that mattered to him.
I have always been more like my mother in that respect. She hears every taunt and every joke at our expense. She cannot ignore the stares that our family receives. She never understood how my father could tune out those things; to them each one was like a phase pistol shot to her heart. And now that my father is gone, I once again notice those things too. I cannot hide from them behind him. His presence can no longer protect me from the isolation that I feel as the first half Human-half Vulcan. Now once more I feel the world push me away, and I do not know how to protect myself from it.
My mind drifts back to an earlier time when I was helpless before the world's cruelty. I was only 14 years old, happy, normal, and ignorant as to why my family was different. Back then I knew that my father was Human and my mother Vulcan, but I could not see why these things were a big deal. I was blissfully ignorant of the arguments that my parents had as to how to raise me and my brother and the stares we received on the street. That peaceful world came to an end when I entered high school, much bigger than the small, sheltered elementary and middle schools I had previously attended. Those were filled with the children of Starfleet officers, and as a result the parents taught their students more consideration of other cultures. I was not even the only non-Human at school--several of the students were the children of diplomats from all over the galaxy. But when I reached high school, everything changed. Suddenly I was in a big school with students from all over San Francisco, most of whom had never seen a Vulcan in person, let alone a half-Vulcan. I was thought of as an object of curiosity, then a weirdo, and finally a freak. In only a few weeks, my peaceful world had been shattered.
Finally I could take no more. Depressed and deranged, I locked myself in the bathroom one night and slit my arm open from my elbow to my wrist. In my frantic state, I had decided that if I could get all of the green blood out of me, I would be a normal Human girl. I fell to the floor crying hysterically as I watched the blood flow out of my arm and onto the white tile floor. Suprisingly, there was no pain, only dizziness that grew until I collapsed on the floor unconscious.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My father sat in a chair beside my bed, his eyes closed and his head drooping forward. I moved slightly, and his head jerked up. His eyes blinked a few times before focusing on my face. The relief on his face was incredible.
"Lauren, you're awake!" He smiled. "We were so worried about you, honey."
"Daddy..." I said groggily. My arm was sore. I looked down and saw a white bandage covering my entire lower arm. "What happened?"
"I found you in the bathroom bleeding, honey. We got you to the hospital right away, and the doctors say that you're going to be fine."
He grew serious then. "Lauren honey, I want you to promise that you'll never hurt yourself again. Your mother and I love you so much. I can't imagine what we would do without you. If you have problems, you need to talk to us. Killing yourself isn't the answer." He took my hand, and I noticed lines of worry creasing his forehead. "We love you so much, Lauren."
I cried then, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me until I calmed down. I knew then that my father would always be there for me. I recovered in part through talking to a psychologist, first every day, later once a week, then once a month until finally I didn't need to anymore. More important, though, was my father. He supported me and loved me, and that enabled me to get past my depression. I still tried to hide the Vulcan part of me, combing my hair to cover my ears and trying to act as human as possible, but my father's love made it easier for me to face the rejection that occured every day.
And now he's gone, and all I have left is my mother. I love my mother, but she represents the Vulcan world that I want to escape so much. I have been to Vulcan to visit my relatives a few times, and as much as I hated to admit it, the cool, calm, logical culture called to me. The green blood in my veins pulled me towards that lifestyle. On one visit during summer vacation, I even started meditating, and I enjoyed the peace that washed over me as I surrendered my emotions and dove into logic. During that time, I once more experienced serenity. I had stopped pushing away from my Vulcan heritage and discovered that embracing it opened the door to clarity and peace.
And yet even that had to come to an end. Most Humans would not believe me when I tell this, but Vulcans can be just as distrustful, ignorant, and cruel as Humans. One day as I left the meditation room, I overheard some Vulcans about my age talking. At the mention of my name, I instinctively ducked behind a pillar to listen.
The words that they said struck me as though someone had knocked the wind out of me. They spoke of the futility of my search of logic, claiming that the imperfection of my blood rendered me incapable of reaching such a high goal. They spoke harshly of Humans, particularly my father, whom they referred to as an "immature, illogical, irrational creature," and they questioned the sanity of my mother to choose him as a mate. They even speculated as to how my father was capable of satisfying my mother's drive during Pon far, and made obscene comments about me to the effect that my Human blood might make my experience during Pon far more passionate than normal since Humans were such a passionate race.
I waited until they had left before running out of the temple. It was late, and I knew I should return home, but instead I collapsed on the steps of the temple and began to sob. All of my emotions suddenly poured out of me, and I cried for hours. Everything about my family became clear that night, and I cried for all of us. I cried for my father and the strength it must take him to pretend that the horrible things people say about our family don't bother him. I cried for my mother and the internal struggle that had battled since she had married my father, unable of expressing and clinging to her love for him as he did to his love for her. I cried for my brother, facing the same hostile universe that I did. Although he hid his feelings, I knew that we tread the same difficult path. And I cried for myself and my inability to achieve peace under the opposing forces of two very differnt worlds.
After that I gave up my search for peace. Both Earth and Vulcan had rejected me, and I did not know how I could ever know a compromise between the forces inside of me. I stopped looking towards society for a way to balance my Human and Vulcan halves. Instead I hid behind my father, letting his strength shield me from the outside. I tied my existence to him so that his strength could be mine. And now he is gone, and I find myself alone in a hostile world with no place to turn.
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. I don't know how I can go on without him. I am pulled between two worlds. No matter how hard I fight, I can't ignore the emotions that surge through my body, or the green blood that runs through my veins. But both worlds reject me, and I float forever between them, struggling to find a place to call home. My father used to be that safe haven for me, but now he is gone. And so I keep floating, keep searching, keep looking for a place to belong.
Author's Note: This is a continuation of my story, "Dying Young," told from their daughter's point of view. Please r/r!
Daddy's Girl
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. My father and I have always been very close. I am definitely my father's daughter, not my mother's. She doesn't understand me at all. My father never completely did either, actually. But he represented everything that I wanted--a normal Human life. My mother has always been cool and aloof, as though she exists slightly removed from the rest of us. My father always assured me that my mother loved me, but I never completely believed him. She never kissed me or hugged me like my father did. She was never loving or affectionate. She has always been unknown to me. For my entire life, I have looked at her and wondered who she was. My father is another matter. He is so open and cheerful. I always felt like I knew him. He never hid himself. But my mother lives a shadowed existence, keeping layers between her and the rest of us.
It scares me to think that he is gone forever, that I will no longer be able to turn to him for love and support. My father's very presence was magical--he had a way of making me feel as if the universe itself smiled upon me. Whenever he was around, the world seemed like a magical, happy place. But now he is gone, and all around me lurk shadows and demons. I can no longer escape the truth that runs through my blood: I am a half-breed. I am abnormal and strange. I am a freak. Those words have taunted me my whole life, but when my father was alive, they disappeared. He did not hear the taunts that followed us wherever we went. He was blind to the stares of passerbys at the strange family: a Human father, a Vulcan mother, and two half-breed children. We were his family and he loved us. Period. That was all that mattered to him.
I have always been more like my mother in that respect. She hears every taunt and every joke at our expense. She cannot ignore the stares that our family receives. She never understood how my father could tune out those things; to them each one was like a phase pistol shot to her heart. And now that my father is gone, I once again notice those things too. I cannot hide from them behind him. His presence can no longer protect me from the isolation that I feel as the first half Human-half Vulcan. Now once more I feel the world push me away, and I do not know how to protect myself from it.
My mind drifts back to an earlier time when I was helpless before the world's cruelty. I was only 14 years old, happy, normal, and ignorant as to why my family was different. Back then I knew that my father was Human and my mother Vulcan, but I could not see why these things were a big deal. I was blissfully ignorant of the arguments that my parents had as to how to raise me and my brother and the stares we received on the street. That peaceful world came to an end when I entered high school, much bigger than the small, sheltered elementary and middle schools I had previously attended. Those were filled with the children of Starfleet officers, and as a result the parents taught their students more consideration of other cultures. I was not even the only non-Human at school--several of the students were the children of diplomats from all over the galaxy. But when I reached high school, everything changed. Suddenly I was in a big school with students from all over San Francisco, most of whom had never seen a Vulcan in person, let alone a half-Vulcan. I was thought of as an object of curiosity, then a weirdo, and finally a freak. In only a few weeks, my peaceful world had been shattered.
Finally I could take no more. Depressed and deranged, I locked myself in the bathroom one night and slit my arm open from my elbow to my wrist. In my frantic state, I had decided that if I could get all of the green blood out of me, I would be a normal Human girl. I fell to the floor crying hysterically as I watched the blood flow out of my arm and onto the white tile floor. Suprisingly, there was no pain, only dizziness that grew until I collapsed on the floor unconscious.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My father sat in a chair beside my bed, his eyes closed and his head drooping forward. I moved slightly, and his head jerked up. His eyes blinked a few times before focusing on my face. The relief on his face was incredible.
"Lauren, you're awake!" He smiled. "We were so worried about you, honey."
"Daddy..." I said groggily. My arm was sore. I looked down and saw a white bandage covering my entire lower arm. "What happened?"
"I found you in the bathroom bleeding, honey. We got you to the hospital right away, and the doctors say that you're going to be fine."
He grew serious then. "Lauren honey, I want you to promise that you'll never hurt yourself again. Your mother and I love you so much. I can't imagine what we would do without you. If you have problems, you need to talk to us. Killing yourself isn't the answer." He took my hand, and I noticed lines of worry creasing his forehead. "We love you so much, Lauren."
I cried then, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me until I calmed down. I knew then that my father would always be there for me. I recovered in part through talking to a psychologist, first every day, later once a week, then once a month until finally I didn't need to anymore. More important, though, was my father. He supported me and loved me, and that enabled me to get past my depression. I still tried to hide the Vulcan part of me, combing my hair to cover my ears and trying to act as human as possible, but my father's love made it easier for me to face the rejection that occured every day.
And now he's gone, and all I have left is my mother. I love my mother, but she represents the Vulcan world that I want to escape so much. I have been to Vulcan to visit my relatives a few times, and as much as I hated to admit it, the cool, calm, logical culture called to me. The green blood in my veins pulled me towards that lifestyle. On one visit during summer vacation, I even started meditating, and I enjoyed the peace that washed over me as I surrendered my emotions and dove into logic. During that time, I once more experienced serenity. I had stopped pushing away from my Vulcan heritage and discovered that embracing it opened the door to clarity and peace.
And yet even that had to come to an end. Most Humans would not believe me when I tell this, but Vulcans can be just as distrustful, ignorant, and cruel as Humans. One day as I left the meditation room, I overheard some Vulcans about my age talking. At the mention of my name, I instinctively ducked behind a pillar to listen.
The words that they said struck me as though someone had knocked the wind out of me. They spoke of the futility of my search of logic, claiming that the imperfection of my blood rendered me incapable of reaching such a high goal. They spoke harshly of Humans, particularly my father, whom they referred to as an "immature, illogical, irrational creature," and they questioned the sanity of my mother to choose him as a mate. They even speculated as to how my father was capable of satisfying my mother's drive during Pon far, and made obscene comments about me to the effect that my Human blood might make my experience during Pon far more passionate than normal since Humans were such a passionate race.
I waited until they had left before running out of the temple. It was late, and I knew I should return home, but instead I collapsed on the steps of the temple and began to sob. All of my emotions suddenly poured out of me, and I cried for hours. Everything about my family became clear that night, and I cried for all of us. I cried for my father and the strength it must take him to pretend that the horrible things people say about our family don't bother him. I cried for my mother and the internal struggle that had battled since she had married my father, unable of expressing and clinging to her love for him as he did to his love for her. I cried for my brother, facing the same hostile universe that I did. Although he hid his feelings, I knew that we tread the same difficult path. And I cried for myself and my inability to achieve peace under the opposing forces of two very differnt worlds.
After that I gave up my search for peace. Both Earth and Vulcan had rejected me, and I did not know how I could ever know a compromise between the forces inside of me. I stopped looking towards society for a way to balance my Human and Vulcan halves. Instead I hid behind my father, letting his strength shield me from the outside. I tied my existence to him so that his strength could be mine. And now he is gone, and I find myself alone in a hostile world with no place to turn.
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. I don't know how I can go on without him. I am pulled between two worlds. No matter how hard I fight, I can't ignore the emotions that surge through my body, or the green blood that runs through my veins. But both worlds reject me, and I float forever between them, struggling to find a place to call home. My father used to be that safe haven for me, but now he is gone. And so I keep floating, keep searching, keep looking for a place to belong.
