Hand to Hold
My mom and I had a good talk to say the least. Dad explained everything to her apparently and she seemed calmer when Santana and I went down to check on them. Santana called in to work but only one of us were permitted to take a leave. Santana was hesitant about leaving me but we both know we have to part ways eventually. I needed to talk to mom eventually. Santana then left after a lot of convincing. She told me that she wouldn't have me go to work with a bruise forming on my face. "I'll have my cell with me all the time. I don't care if I have to leave work early if you need me here. Please, Britt, call me if you have to... or even if you don't have to, just let me know if you're okay." That was the last thing she whispered to me before she left our house on Saturday morning.
It's already Monday and I'm on my way to school. I declined Santana's offer to go to school together. I just couldn't face her yet though I know that I kinda have to in a couple of hours. I was so embarrassed that she has to see all the drama that happened between mom and I. What I told her was the truth - mom wasn't usually like that. I know she wouldn't believe me but she would if she'd learn what really happened in our family.
"Brittany?" I was brought out of my reverie when a familiar voice called me. I wasn't even aware that I've reached the school ground already.
"Hi Quinn." I timidly replied. She was walking alone, her cheerleading uniform neat as ever.
"Uh-oh, what's wrong?" She walked beside me and adjusted her bag on her left shoulder. "And where's Santana?" There was that familiar doubt in her voice. I've known her pretty well with the amount of time we spent together in cheerios and in glee club. We seldom talk but whenever the chance presented itself, she made sure to check up on me. Like an older sister, always ready for an advice. I didn't know what she saw in me that really got her attention. She hasn't done anything bitchy or rude, in fact, she was the only one I ever trust aside from Santana. Weird, I know. But she let me see her broken parts sometimes, that should count. Quinn also blatantly tells me what others were so afraid to say. I like her honesty, no matter how brutal it is. At first I thought it was just about Santana and her oddly indifference towards her that kept her going with connecting with me. But, I was wrong.
"Quinn..." I sighed.
"Okay, okay. Too early. But what'd she do this time?" Her hazel eyes were inquisitive, genuinely curious to be deprived of an answer.
I stopped in my tracks and frowned a little. "She did nothing wrong. Why would you ask me that?"
She also stopped walking. Her expression changed from doubtful to guilty. "I-I just assumed that... nevermind." She sighed to herself. "It's just weird seeing you walking alone to school. You're basically with her all the time."
"I had some errands to do earlier this morning. I didn't want to disturb her and drag her everywhere I go."
"If you say so." Quinn just shrugged, so we continued walking again.
"She has her own life to live, Quinn." I muttered.
"If you say so." Quinn repeated almost disinterestedly.
"I heard what happened between you and her." I said after a short silence. Quinn halted so I stopped walking as well when I noticed that she wasn't beside me anymore. I turned to her. "Look, I don't care what happened between the two of you. And I don't judge. All I want is for you to be okay again." I paused. Weighing my words. Rewording them in my brain but this was the best as it could get. "She needs her friend back."
Judging by her expression, she must've been shocked to hear what I've said. But, it's true. She has to know this, Santana cares for her just as she cares about Santana. They were friends before and having that kind of bond wouldn't just go away instantly.
She let out a sarcastic laugh and looked heavenward. "You clearly don't know what you're saying." Quinn cleared her throat and brushed off the shocked look on her face to a cryptic one. "Did she tell you to say that to me?"
"She doesn't have to say anything. I'm not her puppet. You and her go a long way back. I know you still care about her."
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Let's just get to practice." She walked passed me and I followed without saying anything more. I left her to think about it. She has to know this after all.
...
I was spaced out during the whole time I was in class. Even the few classes I've shared with Santana and Quinn, I was mostly out of it. I couldn't shake the feeling I get about what my mom wanted. She was here for a reason and she was adamant to achieve it whatever the cost is.
"You okay?" We were just wrapping up our meeting with Coach Sue when Santana nudged me on my left.
"Huh?"
"Britt, are you even listening?"
"Y-yeah." I lied and gave her a small smile. She gave me a doubtful look before she shrugged and turned back to coach.
After a few more minutes of dreadful cussing and shouting, coach finally let us go. We were already packing our things ready to leave the stress of today.
"Listen," Santana turned towards me as we head out. "I have to visit mom before going home. Do you want to come?"
I wanted to tell her yes but I couldn't. Not with everything that's happening at home. Santana and I haven't talked much especially about the incident. It made my stomach churn while thinking of a good lie but she beat me to it.
"Maybe some other time then." She shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Call me when you need me, okay?" She walked faster leaving me behind. She didn't even turn around or waited for me reply. So I stood in the almost empty hallway, lost in my thoughts.
When I reached home, dad wasn't there yet. I took a sigh of what could've been a relief but then flashes of what happened in the living room consumed my thoughts again. I tried to shake them off so I decided to run a hot, relaxing bath.
...
"Dad, please... please don't do this." I cried as my father filled his suitcase with all his stuff. I grabbed both of his hands and forced him to look at me. "Please, daddy?" I plead again.
My father's expression was pained more than before. He hasn't stopped crying for days. His eyes were worn out and he lost some weight, I could tell. He refused to sleep in the same bedroom with my mom for a week now. He only took this opportunity to pack when mom left to go somewhere I didn't know.
"Don't leave me. I'm coming with you." I forced through sobs. We were both crying as he squeezed my hands.
He shook his head and cupped my right cheek. "You can't." He whispered. "I love you, Britt. I-I wish..." Then he shook his head again. "God knows how much I love you and your mother. But, I-I couldn't pretend t-that everything's f-fine." He tried to control his sobs as he say those words that broke my heart even more. It tore something inside me apart.
Dad pulled me in to an embrace. "No matter what, you are still my kid, okay? You're still my daughter. Nothing can change the way I feel about you. I love you so, so much my Britty."
"But why would you leave me? Why would you leave mom? I don't understand!"
"I wish I could explain it to you now but it's too painful. Daddy couldn't handle it."
"Don't leave us then!" I demanded over and over. I love both of my parents, but my dad was everything to me. Our bond was the strongest there is. He thought me what unconditional love is, what compassion is. He was the one who tried to consistently protect me from all the hurtful things this world has. "I love you, daddy. Please... please... stay."
My dad's sob became erratic then loud. He gasped for air every so often that his body trembled. This was the first time I've ever seen someone so vulnerable and broken and hurt. My father is the epitome of strength even with tears in his eyes. I've seen how hard he's pulling himself together as he apologized over and over for crying in front of me. He embraced me so tight, with all the love that he has.
When he calmed down, he looked directly into my eyes. I wished at that moment that I could read his thoughts.
He then kissed me on the forehead and sighed contently.
He didn't leave that day.
...
I heard a light knock on my door. "Brittany, honey? Are you in there?" I heard his muffled voice from the outside of my room.
I cleared my throat as I got out of the tub, wiping the tears that somehow trailed down my face. "Just a minute." I say a little loud for him to hear.
I immediately drained the tub, dried and clothed myself. When I opened the door, he was leaning on the wall opposite my room. His hands were on his pockets.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked as casually as I could. I couldn't give away any emotions.
He smiled at me - a gentle but sad smile. "It's still a little early. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a walk then maybe have dinner... with me?" He was hesitant. His expression was shy but at the same time hopeful. I couldn't deny him this. I knew that this has something to do with mom being in town, but I didn't want to push him away. Besides, I promised myself that we should work on this father-daughter thing we have going on.
"Where to?" I asked, his face now void of dispair.
"Oh - um... Well..." He laughed. "I haven't really thought about it." He scratched his chin. "Didn't know you'd say yes."
I wanted to laugh at how nervous he was. "If that dinner has breadsticks in it, then I'm in." I tried to sound chirpy at least, it was already awkward as it was.
"Oh, t-that... certainly. I-I'll wait for you downstairs." He turned to leave but halted on his first step. "Oh, wait - Breadstix a little far off if we go by foot." He turned around facing me again. "It's going to be a long walk." He dragged the word 'long' for emphasis, I swore my dad looked adorable at his coyness.
"Fine by it if you're up for it." I told him, unfazed.
"Are you calling me old?" He said jokingly.
I raised one of my eyebrows up in a challenging manner then smirked. He then laughed and shook his head. "Meet you downstairs, kid." Then he descended the stairs.
I changed into some warmer clothes and a pair of comfortable sneakers. This was the first time we'd be going out for dinner. We'd usually just fall into our normal routine - dinner at home with him asking me about school, about my day or about what I want for dinner the next night. We fell into that routine quite too quickly. We haven't really talk much about our personal lives especially about my life before living with him.
We headed off the direction of the park. He greeted a few people we passed by and introduced me to them as his daughter. Most of them gave a shocked expression while some joked disbelievingly. An older couple complimented that we looked alike. It was weird because I haven't really thought about it until they brought that up.
I was thankful for that older couple because that has somehow broke the ice between us. He told me stories about how he met those people, where they live and how many kids they have. I was amazed at how much he knew about other people's lives around here and was a bit saddened about the fact that he knew so little about his own daughter. So, just to be fair, I opened up to him. I also told him stories or memories I have back here - when my mom used to take me to the park, when my grandparents would spoil me rotten and my birthdays and all the celebrations he missed when I was growing up.
There was a proud look on his face as he looked at me but there was also a glint of sadness in his eyes - like saying I wish I was there. Now that I knew him, I kinda wish that too.
We happen to pass by the park and I pointed out to him the pond. It's where I met Santana, I told him. He was surprised to hear it then asked me how. I told him I couldn't exactly remember it - that I was really young and that Santana has only told me about it. He nodded and kept quiet as I told him more things about me.
"Santana's family has quite a reputation around here." I gave him a curious look as he continued. "Her father, Ric, is a successful doctor. Well you already know about this. They were a family of doctors. We were all flabbergasted when he married Maribel, it was so against the wishes of his father. Maribel came from an equally respected family, but it wasn't enough for Ric's dad. He expected more from him. So, they moved at the far end of town, away from his family. Ric loves Maribel so much that he stood firm with his decision to marry her and build a family with her. I was witness to their love, well, they didn't leave me much of a choice." He chuckled slightly. "Ric was my best friend."
"Was?" I interrupted.
"Well," he cleared his throat and scratched his chin - another nervous habit, I supposed. "we really don't talk that much after Maribel... after what happened to her. He somehow withdrawn himself from all of us. He focused on Maribel, on finding a cure for her. Couldn't blame Santana's old man, a love that strong is something to fight for." He sighed to himself.
"How about you, dad? Any luck on that field?"
He laughed and looked at me for a while, there was another meaning to his laugh that I couldn't decode. "Nah," he half-shrugged, "good thing I have you now though." He laughed again this weighted laugh of his.
My heart ached when I heard him say that. It was the first time he expressed something more than concern towards me. He walked slowly as he fixed his gaze straight on.
"It may not seem like it, kid, but I like having you around. My house... it was just that before. But ever since you came and I've known you, it isn't just a house anymore."
I didn't know how to answer and he didn't expect any reply. Good thing we've reached our destination just as the sun was setting. We were greeted by that familiar looking lady and told us to follow her. It wasn't so busy inside since it was a weeknight.
My dad thanked her as the waiter got our drink orders.
"So, I assume you've been here before." He quirked a playful brow at me. I felt a bit more comfortable with him that I was able to playfully roll my eyes and chuckle.
...
The days went by in a blur. I haven't had the chance to talk or hangout with Santana much. She also didn't bother me which was weird because we have practices together and sometimes the same classes. She kept quiet but I sometimes caught her throwing glances at me. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to be the one to initiate a conversation but I didn't know what to say. I felt guilty and embarrassed still.
I miss her and her company.
She was keeping her distance and I know it's because of me. I was aloof at the start of this week and then it became a pattern. I started this. I kept giving her longing looks but never did try to come up to her or check on her.
I noticed her giving me disappointed looks.
Thursday came and I itched to talk to her again. We couldn't go on like this. It was lunch time that my sought for her begun. She was nowhere to be seen though. I checked everywhere she could've been.
I finally resigned as half of the lunch time was over. I decided to eat since I'll be needing it for later's practice.
"Mind if I share?" I asked the familiar feature seated on an empty table. You'd recognize her any time even from afar. She was alone though, I wonder why.
"Oh." Was her only response. Everyone's acting weird lately. She just smiled and gestured for the seat next to her.
"Where's Quinn or the glee kids?" I looked around suddenly curious as to why she was alone.
"Well, Artie and Tina's done with lunch early. Mercedes and the others are in the library, probably rushing in for the homework due later."
I simply nodded. She wasn't as cheerful or chatty as usual - which was really weird. "Quinn?" I asked but she just shrugged and looked down on her food. "Trouble in paradise?" I meant that as a joke, to lighten the mood, but I guess that's what's really happening when her features changed.
"Why weren't you sitting with your friends?" She asked, deflecting.
"Cheerios?" I asked and she nodded. "Not my friends."
"Right." She sighed then we ate our food silently. I watched her, this was a rare time that I've seen her so sullen, she was so out of her element - so un-Berry like. "Quinn's acting strange the past couple of days." She confessed after a while.
My fork paused mid-air. I brought it down slowly as I wait for her to tell me more. Rachel sighed and looked at me with glassy eyes. I suddenly felt sad for her.
"I know something's bothering her and it bothers me too. She won't even open up to Mercedes or Tina or the others. She has become so reserved again just like-" she stopped as her lip quivered. "I'm just scared."
"What are you scared of?" I asked not fully knowing how my words could comfort her. I wasn't really built for this. I haven't really had a talent in communication let alone giving advice to anyone.
"Santana was the one who brought us together." She said before shaking her head and putting on a much braver face. "I'm afraid she'll also be the one to break us."
"Rachel," I rarely used her first name but since this was a serious talk, I think she deserved this decency. "why would you say that? And what do you mean by Santana brought you two together?"
"Junior year we were both in a pretty rough place. Me dealing with Finn's death and her, giving up her baby." She whispered the last part. "She was lost. Santana was the only person there for her, but when... things happened between them, they just suddenly decided that they couldn't be friends anymore. So, Quinn started out hanging with us... the losers." She breathed out. "That's when we became close. Santana would eventually push us together by her insults and... that's just that. We found solace in each other's misery, I guess."
Berry probably doesn't know that I already knew what happened. I internally sighed because what she said made my head hurt. Being reminded of their lost friendship saddened me too. I didn't want to leave Santana - not like this.
"Enough about us, what about you and Santana?" Rachel breathed out and composed herself, though sadness was still in her eyes.
"We're not together. Why does everybody assume - "
"That's not what I meant." She cut me off. I looked at her bewilderedly.
"I know Santana well enough to know that she isn't capable of loving someone else other than herself."
I clenched my jaw trying to control my boiling anger at what I heard. My hands instantly itched to slap Berry for what she said. Berry must've noticed me glaring at her for she placed a calming hand on my arm before speaking again. "But she's different around you."
I snatched my arm away. "And this is why she's so cynical." I glared at her for the last time, suddenly losing my appetite. I left her without stopping even though she called me twice.
...
I found refuge under the bleachers, there's no one in here today except for the couple who went rushing away as the school bell rang.
I fucking hate this uniform since it's too short to even call it a skirt. I plopped down on the grassy area that I've found and used my bag as a pillow. I closed my eyes still trying to push what happened in the cafeteria out of my mind. My heart's beating erratically as I felt my blood boiled. My nostrils flare with rage at what she said about Santana.
How could they be that naive and insensitive?
Sure, Santana has her lapses too. But most of the time, she's right. She might be bitchin' out about certain things but that's only to point out what's wrong. They didn't have the slightest clue as to what Santana was experiencing. And for them to judge her of being incapable of love, that's just imperceptible. I've seen how much she cares about the people around her, she just have a different way of showing it. Maybe Berry's right, they were all a bunch of losers after all for not recognizing the only good thing in the world.
Santana's capable of loving others. That she even tended to forget about herself.
She's the most dedicated person I know and she excels at what she does. If it wasn't for her feistiness at cheerios practice, she wouldn't be even called as the captain. She loves Glee club - I could feel it in her songs, in the longing concern that she has for the other kids, in her drive to better her performance to reach the Nationals.
Ugh! I just can't -
"Never pegged you for someone who cuts class." I felt warmth beside me, the familiarity of it all.
I didn't even have to open my eyes to confirm who it was. Her raspy voice was enough.
I felt her took a sit beside me. We were silent for a while. We let the quietness of the field enrapture us.
"What's up, tomato?" I squinted my eyes to look at her. Her expectant eyes was already on me.
"How'd you find me here?" I slowly sat up and rested my arms on my knees. I looked out to the field instead.
"Hobbit." She breathed out and made a silent tsk. "What'd she do this time?"
That question seemed to be redundant this week. I shook my head slowly.
"I want to quit Glee."
"Britt," she exhaled that annoyed breath that she has. "don't let Hobbit get into you. That blabbermouth is just totally clueless of her limits. The next time we cross paths, I swear I'll end her."
"What, you'll go Lima Heights on her ass again?"
"If I have to."
I looked back at her. All the apologies, all the explanation suddenly wanted to burst out of me again. I knew I'd have to tell her sooner or later.
So I breathed and counted.
One.
Two.
"I'm leaving." I dared to look at her eyes.
"No, you don't have to. I'll talk to her - "
"I'm moving back to LA."
"I swear I'll kick her ass or -"
"At the end of the month."
"Wait - what?" Santana's face contorted with confusion. "Oh." Until realization hit her.
I didn't know how else I'd tell her. But rather than waiting for her to hear it elsewhere or to figure it out, I might as well be the one to tell her.
She closed her mouth and bit her lower lip. Her eyes held too many emotions all at once - shock, betrayal, hurt. She tried to mask it, but I could see past her pretense.
"Is that why you're avoiding me?"
I shook my head no. "I was embarrassed. For the circumstance that you'd met her. It shouldn't be like that."
Silence.
So I continued with the dreadful apology, "I'm sorry." But I didn't know to which particular reason.
She shook her head and gave me a small smile. But then again, sadness lingered. "Nah, I've dealt with the worse."
"I mean it, Santana. I really am."
"So, less than two weeks, huh?" She's still harboring the heartbreaking smile.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"The countdown."
She chuckled. Oh, how I missed it. People wouldn't really appreciate the things they miss until they're long gone.
Neither of us said anything more. We waited. We listened. But all we've heard were the distant chatters and the bell ringing afar.
...
That night, sleep didn't come close.
Defeated, I threw the cover off and sat by the window.
Have you ever felt like a yo-yo? Or a rope used for tug of war? Because that's exactly how my thoughts were and that's exactly how I felt. Back and forth. Back and forth. My thoughts were no longer scattered. They were just going back and forth. Back and forth. I wish my strength was enough to finally pull it back.
Mom. Dad. Santana. Back and forth. LA. Lima. Home. Back and forth.
I sighed. My head hurt not for the lack of sleep but for all these thoughts filling my brain. Mom. Dad -
Knock. Knock.
"Shit!" I gasped at the sudden tap on my window. "What the - Santana?" I hastily opened my window to let her in. "What are you doing?" I chastised over a hushed tone.
"Couldn't sleep. Home alone again." She smiled sheepishly at me.
"Not cool." I rolled my eyes at her.
"What? It's not like you were sleeping. Besides, I wouldn't knock if I didn't see you sulking."
I pushed her away playfully then sat down on the bed.
She was already on her jammies, so she just removed her jacket revealing her tight tank top. She may be small in height but she's definitely fit. Her tank top hugged all her curves and showed just enough abs.
"Like what you see?" She smirked that arrogant looking smile again.
"Nah, I have much better."
She took offense on that because the next thing I knew, she jumped on the bed and attacked me. I threw fits while she kept hushing me.
"S-st-top! S-stop!" I tried to dodge her fingers but damn her stamina and her unexpected jump, I couldn't break free from her. "D-dad." I tried to warn her.
She hushed me again. "Dad!" I said a little louder. She covered my mouth but stopped tickling me.
"You're going to wake him up. Poor old man!" She got off me and I was finally able to breathe. We were both panting. She was standing in front of me so I pulled her. She landed on top of me which caused another round of giggles.
Soon after, she breathed out and relaxed on my arms. "Why are you still up?" She asked quietly.
"Tug of war." I whispered.
"Yeah? Me too."
"I've missed you." I confessed.
"I know." She nuzzled her head on the crook of my neck. She started humming a tune I couldn't recognize. I let her, her voice, even without words, was soothing enough.
I thought of the time that I met her, the first time she cried, the time I felt most needed. Nobody ever made me feel that way. It's a nice change instead being the one on the receiving end. It's like she has given me the opportunity to be strong because she felt weak. My strength was the one anchoring her into reality.
My dad always taught me to be strong. For mom. For myself. I couldn't understand why he'd constantly remind me that before, but now I knew why.
"Do you think heaven exists?" I barely whispered.
She didn't answer right away. But, I know she wasn't asleep yet. I let her collect her thoughts as I collected mine.
"Maybe. Maybe not." The certainty of her uncertainty was enough answer. Nobody really knew and I guess no one would ever know. "But if it is, I hope there's no more expectations in there."
Expectations. The cruel anticipation of what'd come next. Of what the outcome would be. Of how the end would be.
"I hope so. I hope dad's happy."
"What?" She pulled back to look at me. I immediately missed the contact. Her chocolate brown orbs were black in the darkness of my room. I wish I could stare at her comforting eyes forever.
"My mom's husband. My dad." Santana's brows were drawn together, forming a crease in between. "Remember when I told you that I have a complicated family?" She just nodded so I continued. "My dad, not Bryan, was the one who raised me."
"Your stepfather?" I could see that she's trying really hard to make sense of what I was saying.
I pulled out my phone and after searching for a few seconds, I showed her the screen. "That's Stephen, my dad." I showed her a picture of my dad in uniform. It was our first picture together when he went back from his military service, I was six. "He was in the military. Mom had me months before they got married. They broke up once, they thought it wouldn't work out. He was my mom's greatest love, as she was his." I paused as Santana gave me my phone back. I rested my back on the bed once more, not sure if I could still handle reliving what happened. But, misery loves company, right? And Santana deserves my truth.
"When they broke up, mom was left devastated so she went back here and stayed with my grandparents. Mom and Bryan were best of friends and they felt nothing romantic for each other. But, one drunken night costed them their fate. Mom initially thought that I was my dad's, because only a few weeks after they went back to being together. Mom went back to LA and they got married. My mom never really thought that I was Bryan's because what happened between them was a one time thing."
"Then how did you know?" Santana asked in a low, curious voice.
"I was sickly when I was a kid. I needed blood, bonemarrow and other medical crap I couldn't remember. Of course, my dad wanted to give me the world. But his tests came back as negative. That's when mom had her suspicions. Mom learned about it for a while but kept the truth from us for a couple of years. I couldn't blame her though, we were dad's world. Until one day, a letter came and dad accidentally opened it. After that, there was calmness that was so eerie before hell broke loose."
I didn't realize that my face was already wet, only when Santana pulled me into her that I've felt everything. I've felt everything and nothing. I wasn't sobbing, but my tears seemed to have a mind of their own. Stupid, stupid tears won't stop. I breathed in. I breathed Santana in. She's the one keeping me at bay, stopping me from floating to somewhere far.
"I didn't know." I whispered over and over until I became frantic without meaning to. That's why I hate emotions. But, I didn't open up. Santana broke through my wall without even realizing it. She went through the troubles of climbing through it and jumping on the other side, fearlessly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" He asked while looking ahead of us. It was the first day of vacation from school, the first time he ever stepped out of the house after something happened between him and mom. I knew something was up for a while now but they continue putting on a brave face. Dad would still assure me though, that he loves me and mom just the same even beyond the confusion brought about by the circumstances.
Warm waves came crashing on our feet, his arms wrapped around me protectively. My dad was an excellent swimmer. He promised to teach me how to surf one day. The ocean was his safe place, and so it was also mine.
"What is, daddy?" The twelve year old me asked.
"The sea, the sunset, the sky." He slowly enumerated. "But do you know what's the most beautiful of them all?" I looked up towards him.
"What?"
"You." He said in a very serious and heartfelt manner. Of course, the twelve year old me easily shrugged him off. Not knowing of what'd happen next. Not knowing that it'd be the last time he'd call me that.
He peppered me kisses as the sun set. I continuously giggled as I tried to stop him, embarrassed of the other kids looking. He was relentless though. He was sickeningly sweet. He made the entire day focused on just the two of us. He bought me all my favorites - even the unicorn pillow my mom refused to. He randomly told me how lucky he was that I came to his life. I loved him even more for that.
We came home to an empty house that night. Mom wasn't there. Dad didn't even ask.
Only after what happened did I learn that mom was with my grandparents, drawing strength, asking for advice. Trying to save what could be saved.
Everything around me grew quieter after that day at the beach. Dad would spend less and less hours of being with us and more hours on drinking or sleeping.
My family wasn't confrontational. That's what I've learned. My parents had different ways of dealing with their pain. I wasn't aware that I was the one causing that pain. Until one night, I demanded for answers. Dad, being so gentle around me couldn't say a word, so I turned to mom. She made a few twists and turns before I finally realized what she's trying to say.
After that, I ran away.
My dad found me after a day in an old shack by the beach. His eyes were clearly deprived of sleep and I couldn't be guiltier.
I refused to go home. I never wanted to see both of them. I didn't even know why I was so angry, but I was. It felt more than being robbed off my favorite unicorn pillow.
I felt mad about the situation. I felt too little, too lost. My twelve year old self couldn't understand; questions flood through me one after the next. Who am I? If not him, then who's my real father? Why only now? I don't want to know who he is. Dad is my only father. I don't care about anyone. I don't want it to be anyone else.
But, with all those questions and lies, dad stayed with me to hold my hand.
Days after, when mom was out, I silently crept to my dad's room, he was still staying in the guest room. I was about to knock when I heard muffled cries inside, so instead I listened. My own tears found their way out. My throat constricted as I tried to stop the sobs about to break loose and tore me apart. My heart ached, it felt like it was being punched and squeezed over and over. My chest hurt as my lungs refused to breathe in or out. It was too hard, painfully hard to listen to him like that. It was like my dad was praying and sobbing and asking too many questions at the same time. I felt his pain. I felt his anger. I felt the pain of betrayal and before I could even comfort him, I heard a gunshot.
gator2076 thank you so much for your consistency! Appreciate it all.
And for the others, thank you for reading and your suggestions.
This story is about to end soon. So, please tell me what you think so I could deliver even better. :)
Stay safe! Keep living for our sassy angel!