Fears

Chapter One | Antidepressants

          : : CHAPTER ONE | ANTIDEPRESSANTS : :

"Ridley, darling, smoking is going to kill you one day." These were the wise words I was given as soon as my dad walked through my bedroom door coming home from work.

My dad was a smart man, he had a great sense of humour and he was a brilliant dad, I honestly couldn't ask for more. He was considered 'handsome' for his age and he had a great successful career that brought in plenty of money. He understood me more than anyone and he accepted every stupid decision I made with open arms, offering me advice and words of wisdom (excuse the Beatles song quote). But more so than anything, he's always there for me, he was not only my dad and my role model but also my mum and best friend too.

"Your logic is flawless, dad." I snorted, watching as he sat down opposite me on my windowsill, grabbing the pack of cigarettes, pulling out a slender 'death' stick, lighting it up and propping it between his lips.

He smirked at me, taking a drag and blowing the smoke in my face teasingly. "I know."

"Is it not going to kill you?" I wondered.

Dad looked at my bluntly, the dirtiest look I've ever seen cross his features. "Are you kidding me? I'm going to outlive you all." He snorted.

I rolled my eyes. Though my dad is smart, he really does have his moments. "Ryan, darling, your arrogance is going to kill you one day." I imitated dad's voice, painting on a smart alack look.

Dad just shot me a sarcastic look. "I've earned this." He mumbled, his eyes intently watching the cigarette.

"So have I."

"A little girl died today." Dad mumbled sympathetically, taking in another drag.

"What from?"

"Liver cancer. I've been treating her since she was three. Chemo had stopped working and there were no donors of the right blood type to go through with the transplant. She was eight." Dad sighed, shaking his head. "I grew up with her dad. He asked specifically for me to treat his daughter and I let him down."

"A year older than Diamond," I breathed, thinking about my little sister and feeling the undeniable reel of anxious fears clench at my heart. "Dad, it isn't your fault she died, you did everything in your power to help her live her life and if there were no donors and the chemo stopped working for her, there was nothing you could do to stop it."

"I know," he exhaled loudly. "She was a lot like Diamond and it hurt when I was informed how she just... well, died." Dad mumbled, tears welling up, choosing his words carefully.

"What was her name?"

"Desiree. She had a twin sister, Demetria and an older brother, Jude." Dad said, staring out my window.

I butted out my cigarette in my crystal ash tray. "Shit." I said.

Dad nodded, unaffected by my language. "They're coming around for tea tomorrow."

My eyes snapped to my dad's familiar blue eyes. "What?" I asked in a forced calm voice.

"Ridley, darling, it'll be okay."

I shook my head quickly. Flashes of what could happen in that time flooding my brain. "No, no, no, dad, no. I'm not comfortable with this." I stressed.

"Darling, you can do this. These people are lovely, they're just grieving and I doubt they'll talk about funerals and the memory of what happened while she died or anything that will trigger something." Dad soothed, butting out his cigarette too.

I chewed on my lip, feeling the panic arise in my chest. "Can't I stay with Jonah?" I asked urgently, thinking of my brother.

"Ridley, you know he'll be working." He said.