Thanks, Dad

Thanks, Dad is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, thoughts, and incidents are products of the author's mind therefore, these are used fictiously and imaginatively. Concepts in this piece are mere details to support the story's conflicts.

There will be no other copies of this book aside from what is already posted from this account (JustNotSureYet), unless given valid permission from the user (Jam), under JustNotSureYet.

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Louiella

The whirling ceiling fan was too much for me to stare at. I have been watching it for a quite long time now. The hanging object had its mechanical flaps rotating in infinite circles. My head began to spin. My vision blurred. My motion sickness was kicking in again.

The feeling reminded me of the time I went to a party and I drank too much liquor, I vomited on the person who was trying to have a conversation with me. The feeling reminded me of waking up in the morning with a pounding headache and with my sheets smelling like yesterday's dinner. Clearly, I wasn't fond of partying.

There was a knock on the door. I didn't bother checking who it was. The person's footsteps were large and loud. The person was standing over me.

"Lou, dinner's ready," Aaliyah cheerfully announces. "Dad and Bethany are waiting for you downstairs."

"I'm not hungry."

"Come on," Aaliyah whined. "I know you are!"

"You don't know how I feel." I said as I closed my eyes.

Aaliyah stomps her foot out of frustration. "You've been lying on that bed for four days straight! We don't even know what to do with you anymore. It's like you lost your will to live."

Well, you could say that.

But, I didn't respond. Aaliyah sighs and palmed her face.

"Could you at least eat? Not for us nor with us. Just eat." Her voice was soft. "You might get sick."

"You eat," I answered. "My appetite ran away just like my ex did, four days ago."

Aaliyah stomped her foot again and left my room, closing the door with a loud thud.

I lay there, thinking. It was just random thoughts popping in and out my head. And suddenly, I am afraid again. I curled into a ball and covered myself with my blanket. I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep. But, my mind was not cooperating. It was going places its never been before.

Then, there was a knock on the door. Again.

"Louiella." The voice was strangely calm and I resisted the urge to move my limbs.

The door opened and it revealed my father. He looked tired. Not as haggard as my face, but I could see dark circles under his eyes and his beard was growing out. He was wearing a blue shirt that I got him for Christmas last year. I saved up my allowance for 4 months just to buy him that expensive shirt. My father said he loved it not because it was a good and expensive shirt, he loved it because it came from me.

"I'm not hungry," I said before he could say anything.

"Well, staying here will make you," my father addressed. "Come on, I made home-made tomato soup. It's your favorite, right?"

I nodded. I didn't want to sound rude. But he smiled and nudged my feet. "Come on."

"I'm okay." I said. I didn't know if I was saying it for him or for me. But the smile on his face disappeared.