Some Wounds Never Heal

Spare Yourself; I'm Done Here

Cadillac takes a deep breath and just stares at the door like she's done this a million times. I notice that most of the workers are giving her cold looks. They're all dressed in business suits and have their naturally colored hair pulled back or styled professionally. I guess Cadillac stands out like a sore thumb with her blue hair and ripped jeans. These people, also, more than likely don't believe that Cadillac is their boss's long lost daughter.

"He usually turns me away or calls his assistant to escort me out. That's usually why I leave crying because he doesn't even want to talk to me." I can see the tears already forming in her eyes. "I can't do this; I can't be rejected again. I can't see the livid look he gets in his eyes every time I'm in his presence, he acts like he loathes me and I'm his own child." Cadillac looks like she's about to sob.

"You can do this; I'll be right there with you." I open the door and shove her in the room, being careful to slam the door behind me.

There's a man sitting behind the desk, looking over documents, completely unfazed that there are two supposed strangers in his office. The office is painted a hideous shade of beige and is covered in degrees and awards I'm guessing he's won over the years. The office is spacious enough to fit a couch and a few leather chairs. Then there's the large desk that spans at least a third of the room. The man sitting behind it is mostly wrinkle free. He has the same eyes as Cadillac and the high cheekbones to match. He's dressed in a black suit with a blue tie. Mr. Blackwell is wearing a pair of thickly framed glasses on the bridge of his nose and has a deep crease in his forehead as he concentrates.

"What are you doing in my office? I don't remember requesting your presence." Mr. Blackwell doesn't look up from his work and has "here we go again" written all over his face.

"And I don't remember asking you to cheat on my mother with a prostitute but look where we are now." Cadillac says as she takes a seat in one of the chairs facing the desk.

"I don't even know who you are, so how I could've cheated on your mother, is beyond me." Mr. Blackwell says, never missing a beat.

"Gosh, this man's a piece of work." I think to myself and take a seat on the couch.

"Bull crap! You know exactly who my mother is and you know that you cheated on her. You left us in poverty and now you're pretending that I don't exist. I'm your daughter no matter how hard you try to change that."

"You are no daughter of mine," Mr. Blackwell shifts in his chair and finally acknowledges her presence.

"Yes, I am. What's it going to take to convince that I am?"

"I would never let my daughter turn out the way you're parents let you turn out." He snaps and then goes back to work. Gosh, if only punching your elders was acceptable.

"I turned out this way because you walked out on my mother before I was even a week old. You were my father and you abandoned me. You tricked my mother into signing divorce papers and then you went off and married your escort. My mother loved you and she trusted you to take care of your family. The slutty witch you married afterwards only wanted you for the money you'd gain from your trust fund. My mom actually loved you before the trust fund but you had to go get some other lady pregnant and then walk out on us." Cadillac has tears running down her cheeks.

"I will not sit here and be accused of these things by some trashy teenager I've never seen in my life." Even I can see he knows exactly what she's talking about; it's written all over his face.

"She trusted you, I trusted you. I never had a father because my mother couldn't bring herself to trust another man after what you did to her and she never will. You ruined her life and my future because you found someone better and got her pregnant. I'm your kid; I was your kid first and you don't even care. You ignore me and reject me as if I'm road kill ."