Disclaimer: House of Anubis I own. Not.

A little Joy forgiveness and empathy. Spills her guts and cries her heart out, again. Enjoy.

Chapter 4: Forgiveness Is A Virtue

I called a cab once more to go home. I did not want to go back to Amber's house and face the music, or any of my housemates. At least not yet.

The entire way home, I stared out the window and did not say anything or think about anything. I felt completely numb inside.

What I had said to everyone just a few short moments ago, it was not me. It felt like an entirely different person had stepped into my body, kicked my real self out, and took over, being a bitch to everyone.

Okay, yes, my friends forgot about my birthday, but that did not qualify to become a major bitch to all of my friends. And yes, Nina was the main attraction like she always was, but that does not mean I should cuss her out and call her mean names. I felt awful for yelling at everyone.

When I arrived at my house, I silently handed the man his money, then got out, slowly trudging along with each step. Surprisingly I had found the same cab as before, and I numbly heard the man yell after me, "No comeback now?"

I lifted my hand in a wave like before, unlocking the door with my key and walking inside. My father was nowhere to be seen, in fact, the house looked pretty empty of anything. It was as if it had not been touched for ages.

"Dad?" I called.

No answer.

I dropped my purse on the little table near the front door that had a small vase of flowers as decoration, which landed with a loud thud that echoed around the seemingly empty house.

I slowly ascended the stairs, wondering what he was doing. He was still here, I would have seen the screen door closed behind the front door, but it had been wide open, saying he was here.

When I reached the landing, I continued to the master bedroom, where my father slept, where my mother used to sleep at night. I ignored the sudden ache in my heart that I felt at remembering her, but fingered the glass earrings I wore. She had bought them for my thirteenth birthday, after I had gotten my ears pierced. I remembered what she had said with such clarity, as if she had just told me moments ago, "Now you are no longer a pretty girl, but a lovely young woman."

Oh god, I missed her so much. I wonder if Dad has any old family photos? I asked myself.

The door to the master bedroom was already a little ajar, so I pushed it open and saw my dad looking at old photo albums. There was a large box at his feet marked "Family Memories", full of large leather binders full of old memories from when I was a child and when life was so much simpler. He held one brown binder that held laminated photos from so long ago, and with each photo, especially one of my mother, another tear slipped down his cheek.

He sat on the bed, hunched over as he looked over each picture, and stroking the smooth, clear cover of them. I decided to sit next to him, trying not to jostle the bed to much so I would not startle him. When the bed creaked, he slowly lifted his chin to look at me.

His face was a bit haggard, with his eyes bloodshot and circles underneath them. His gray hair was impossible to ruffle, because of its short length, but I could tell he had not combed it in a while. Silent tears fell down his face, though he made no motion to wipe them away.

I wanted to ask, Where is the proud, fearless father I had once known? Who is this man that sits before me, with tears in his eyes and a broken heart? This is not my father, the one I had always looked up to. The one man who would never stop loving me no matter what I did.

But I could not say that. Partly because I knew he really was the fearless father I had always looked up to, but he was only human. Everyone has to cry sometime. The father I knew was still there, encased within this weak man, fighting to get out, but at the moment, emotions ruled above all. And the main reason I did not judge him was because I felt the same way.

I had once been the strong leader that never cried, who stood above everyone else, above all of my friends. I was the impenetrable one that was never affected by anyone. I was the one who kept my cool even in the worst of situations.

What happened to that girl?

Who is this feeble person who cries all of the time, with no well-protected wall to shield her heart and mind from any emotional damage like this? This is not Joy Mercer. This is some other person who can not handle grief. This is a person who is just weak and defenseless, a person who needs help from everyone and is dependent on her friends to hold her up.

No, I was not that girl. I could not be. This was just one thing, a phase. I was going to be the solid leader that could never be broken by anything. Right?

My father finally spoke in a croaky voice, as if he had not spoken in years, "Joy, princess, why did I get involved in all of this society stuff? Why did I want to be immortal? Am I afraid of death so I won't end up like your mother-being so young and full of life that having it snatched away would be a crime?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I had to put you through that. You didn't deserve it. No one is supposed to live forever, it's not rational. We all have to die eventually. And based on that Elixir of Life, if one person has to die, then it's one more reason not to become immortal.

"Do you forgive me, darling?" he asked.

"Of course, Daddy," I replied, my voice in a choked sob, as I threw my arms around his neck and cried for the second time today.

We cried together, while he stroked my hair and weeped silent tears. I finally let it all out, soon running out of breath from the amount of crying I was doing. I did not want to hold it in anymore. I did not want to be the fearsome leader of the group anymore. I just wanted to be human: to have emotions, let myself make mistakes, and not have to be the steadfast barrier that would fix any error made.

I just wanted to be normal once again.

Sorry for sounding philosophical near the end. I had just been reading the Iliad and was in a prose-y mood. (:

You know what sucks? Having your friends have dates to the dance, but you not having one and having to go alone or as a third wheel. I think I'm gonna write something else while I'm in this mood...

So review. And stuff. Bye.

~Ary