The Challenge

"Are you guys going to play some music or no?"

"Sean, it's time for bed," the nurse said gently as if he were a toddler instead of a fully grown man. Lilly picked up on this too, if the narrowed glare she gave the nurse was any indication.

He sighed, slowly lifting himself off the armchair and climbing into his bed. The nurse smiled in satisfaction before closing the door of the room. As soon as her retreating footsteps could no longer be heard from the hall, he sat up, flinging the blanket off of his body.

"God, I hate that bitch," he muttered with a huff, now sitting at the edge of his bed.

Lilly's eyes widened in shock as her mouth dropped open. "Dad!" she screeched.

"What?" he asked. "You know how horrible she is. Yesterday she asked if I wanted to drink my milk from a sippy cup!"

Lilly huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Still," she said with a grimance, "she's just doing her job."

"Yeah, if her job was to piss me off," he muttered still loud enough for both of us to hear.

Lilly threw her hands up in the air and let out an audible groan, obviously aggravated that her forty-year-old father had a dirtier mouth than she did. I chuckled, standing from my chair to walk towards Lilly.

"Mr. Dawson, I think you should listen to the nurse and get some sleep," I said. I placed a hand on Lilly's back as she rubbed her temples and muttered incoherent words under her breath.

"I can't go to sleep now! It's only seven o' clock!" he protested, crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff.

I looked between the two Dawsons who both had their arms crossed over their chest and a dominant expression on their face. Both of them were to stubborn for their own good. I sighed, like father, like daughter.

"How about a bedtime story?" I suggested, motioning to the mountians of books piled in every nook and cranny of the room.

"I've read all of those books already," he said as he dismissed the idea with a simple wave of his hand.

"Well, you can read it again," I offered, walking over to a pile and picking up an old, dusty, paper-back edition of Othello. Lilly roamed around the room too, shifting through the piles of books.
"I've read those books way too many times to count," he sighed.

"The ending has become way too predictable and boring. Sometimes I hate writers because it is always their ending or no ending. The ending in those book are completely set in stone and they will never change. It's very much like life itself."

I whirled around to face him. "Are you saying that a person can never undo their mistakes?" I asked, a large know twisting and coiling around my stomach.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he said, pointing a finger at me. "Fate only has one ending and if someone goes and screws that up, it's gone forever. No rewinding, no do-overs, no second chances. That's it."

I gulped, looking over at Lilly who was currently absorbed into a story of Aslan and White Queens. She ran her fingers through the yellow pages as she read, already lost in the world of Narnia.

"So, you're saying if someone messes up, the story is finished and it can never be changed again?" I asked, nearly wincing at the answer I knew was coming.
He nodded his head.

"That's it. That person can only start a new story with new characters and hope they don't screw up again."

The knot in my stomach snaked its way around my lungs, squeezing it until my breath came out short and ragged. I desperatley tried to calm my unsteady breaths but it felt like my lungs were now made of iron and my legs could no longer support the weight of my body. I gripped a pile of books as I slowly regained my breath and my heartrate felt normal again.