You took my heart, could I please have it back?

[35] You took my heart, could I please have it back?

~*~*~

Christmas day arrived and for the first time in five years I felt excited about my presents. Alex had given me the Collins' presents earlier in the week, and I had given them ours. I had sent the Bakers' presents in the post and hoped they received them on time.

Now, I sprang out of bed and, still in my blue, frog pyjamas, went downstairs and looked underneath the tree. A stack of presents sat waiting for me; some for dad, but most for me. I waited impatiently for the man himself to come down, and once he had, I greeted him a Merry Christmas then grabbed the nearest present.

Tearing off the card eagerly, I saw that it was from the Baker family and my friends at school. I smiled as I saw the message inside, and then opened the present, bubbling with anticipation.

I laughed when I saw what it was; a cuddly toy and a mug from Alton towers, with a compass clipped to it. Dad looked at me weirdly, but I reassured him that it was an inside joke. Underneath them were a black AC/DC hoodie, and a pair of black skinny jeans; Alex was not the only one who like AC/DC.

Next I opened the Collins' presents. From their mother I got a wooden beaded bracelet and a matching necklace with the letters L-I-Z engraved onto them. She said she made them herself, and I smiled at her handiwork.

From Sarah, I got a framed drawing of five people; herself, Alex, Neil, her mother and myself. I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I read the words 'My Family' which were written above the five people, who were holding hands. I was touched that she thought of me as a member of her family.

Alex's present was simple, but I loved the thought that had gone into it. It was a book of songs to play on the guitar and piano, many of which I had always wanted to play but never had the music for. I smiled as I flicked through it; some of the pieces would prove a welcome challenge.

Last but not least, my father's present. It was about a metre long and half that wide, and I wondered what it could be. I tore open the wrapping paper without seeing the card to reveal a guitar case.

It was old and battered and worn, but when I opened it, the guitar inside was in almost perfect condition. Suddenly, I saw the curly letters written beneath the strings; Elise. That had been my mother's name. So this must be her guitar. And then I remembered all the lessons she used to give me, and the hours I used to spend watching her play this very guitar.

For the first time, I noticed the card stuck to the wrapping paper. Because it was the same pattern, I hadn't noticed the well camouflaged envelope, but now I opened it. It was not a Christmas card, as I soon discovered, but a letter written by my father himself.

My dearest daughter,

I have tried and tried to say it out loud, but the words don’t come out. My mind has slowly taken control of me as I try to tell you, filling me with regret. So because I can't tell you, I'm going to write it to you instead.

Liz, you are my pride and joy. To hurt you intentionally, even if I was a drunken bastard, makes me feel so guilty that sometimes I can't breathe, think, do anything. The thought of laying a finger on you to cause harm will haunt me for the rest of my life.

You probably won't ever forgive me for what I did, and I don't blame you if you don't. What I did to you couldn’t be forgiven by the most forgiving of people. I suppose that could be you, considering your first reaction to me; that surprised me. It was like you just welcomed me back and forgot about those five years. But now I don't blame you for hating me.

You're incredibly similar to your mum, you know. Strong, caring, loving, selfless. You think of others before yourself and when something does happen to you, you keep a tough face and live through it. I'm proud of you, Liz. You are opposite to me in your selfless manner; hell, I hurt you in my selfishness.