You Were Supposed to Stay In The Past

Boo boos and Blue Hues

~Current POV~

My finger got smashed in a door.

My dad has been home more often and he decided to drive me to school one day. He's not a morning person so I'm surprised he woke up early to drive me. 

I wish he hadn't thought, because he's always so... grumpy in the mornings. My mother was a morning person and always woke up early so just seeing the sun peak out from the trees reminds him of her. And when ever he thinks of her, he downs poison to tame the pain.

Alcohol is poison in my eyes. I will never drink in the future. Never. Ever.

People drink at there worse, when they're mentally the weakest, and therefore, making it easier for the poison to take control. 

My dad basically eats his cereal with beer at this point. Every time he sees me he takes a sip. Even though, in my opinion I don't look much like my mother. 

It's not his fault though, it's painful, death is more painful for the living than it is for the one dying some times. 

It's so painful for him and yet he refuses to leave this house, the house where ever floor board, blue bath tile, and picture reminds him of her.

Since he woke up early to take me to school, he of course filled himself a large glass of wine. He drank it down with a subtle tilt of his head and then we were off to school.

He decided to drive me since the school was on the way to the errand he had to run. We were dead silent in the car the most of the drive.

I could tell he was getting annoyed about something though because he kept mumbling to himself and shaking his head.

We had driven a few minutes like this until finally, we were a turn away from the school. But, he drove past it. My breath hitched to a stop as I watched that warn down road brush past my window, soon fading into the distance. That was my road to freedom. And he missed it.

I didn't want to make him angry by asking but I also didn't know what else to do. 

I kept my stiff posture up and I opened my mouth to speak. But before I could even utter a word, he spoke:

"Have you been lying to me?" I was shocked. I'd never lie to him, but if he thinks I did, it won't matter what I say.

"What do you mean?" I whispered.

"Speak up Carmen," he said sternly.

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what you're talking about." I spoke up this time, but not to loud. I didn't want to upset him. 

He grumbled some more before saying, "You said you have been keeping your grades up, but I checked and you have a B in English." I froze. How did he know about that? I had an 88 but I was going to pull it up with this next quiz. 

"I'm sorry. I-i" 

"Saying sorry doesn't raise your grade. I didn't feed and clothe you for you to go out and get bad grades!" He began shouting. I knew it wasn't him though.

It was the wine talking, it was the grief talking, and it was the guilt for not being able to save her speaking to me right now.

This isn't my dad. My dad didn't yell. He was calm and collected. Always polite and caring.

This was just the poison that has sickened him. It's not his fault- no it's mine. If I did better for him, he wouldn't be so angry.

I didn't dare to look at him, to see the remanence of what once was. Instead, I stared straight ahead at a blue sign we were passing. My whole body was shaking even though it wasn't cold. I was shaking from.. an emotion, one I refused to acknowledge. Because it's not an emotion you should feel towards someone you love.

He drove in silence and in anger. One hand tight on the wheel and the other tight on his almost empty beer.

When we finally stopped I'd jumped out the car and unknowingly shut the door on my finger while trying to get out. When I turned around to see my finger wedged into the car door, my dad had already locked the car and left me there. I was so scared I'd make him angrier I just watched him walk away. 

I'd stayed there, my left ring finger had been stuck in the door for a while before I heard him unlock the car. 

He'd parked in the corner of an old parking lot behind the building I assumed he'd had to visit so no one noticed me. When he saw me, he unlocked the door and told me to walk home.

I didn't look at my finger until he left. When I did, all I saw was red. The nail was smashed and purple, it was the tip of my finger that had got caught in the door. It looked like a bug after you step on it.

Looking at the injury reminded me of him. A person I had chosen to forget to save me from the guilt. But seeing the blood, the bone, I couldn't help but remember that scrawny boy who always came to me black and blue. 

I guess this is what I get. This is what I deserve. It's only fair, after all he suffered because of me, it's only fair I share even a little bit of his pain. I'm so sorry my little friend.

I'm so sorry daddy.

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This chapter is actually based off of something that happened to me. It was on Father's Day and I was angry at my mom. I got out of the car and slammed it for dramatic effect. I didn't know I had shut it on my finger and my mom locked the car, when I tried to walk away I felt a pull and turned around to see the tip of my finger was in the car. We had to go to the hospital and wait 3 HOURS before they finally bandaged it and sent me on my way. I'd completely smashed it, the bone on the top of my finger was crushed. It honestly didn't hurt as bad as you might think but anyways, thanks again American health care! If you wanna know how much the tip was it's the first joint on your finger, that's how much I slammed in the car door.