I awake.
To the sound of nothing, too much nothing. I swiftly pull myself up off the hallway floor, I slept here all night.
I move my hand up to my head and gasp, the cuts hurt; badly. Oh, right, the bandages in my White Room did nothing to help.
I shake my head and walk down the stairs and notice that everything is exactly as it was last night. I blink a couple of times to make sure that I’m not dreaming. I run into the garage and notice that my mom’s car is missing.
She left me.
At home, on a school day.
I close the door and lock it and turn my back to the door and slide down it. I should have walked back to my room last night. I picture the look of my mother’s disgust on her face as she sees that I’m in my own world. I shudder and pick myself up, I should probably walk to school; but my body is to sore for that. Instead I go and take a quick shower.
Letting the boiling water spread across me and hopefully fill my heart with warmth.
It doesn’t work.
It remains cold and absent.
When I’m out, I check my skinny self in the mirror. You can see my ribs poke out of my pale skin, I need to gain more weight; but then the kids at school will just start mocking me again.
I haven’t eaten in nearly 4 days.
Last time I went on an eating strike my mom ended up shoving food down my throat.
Didn’t she understand that I couldn’t eat? That If I did I would have to deal with those taunting voices over and over again?
I wince and hurry up and dry off and slip into some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. I cant show off any skin. The kids at school will just yell at me and tell me I’m to pale.
I walk into the living room and curl up in a ball on the sofa and stare off into the distance.
I look over to the door and think of the day that dad decided he was leaving and that he wasn’t coming back. My mom was so horrible to me that night. She blamed me for his absence. I blamed myself.
Mom held onto his luggage, yelling and cursing at him to NOT leave. He didn’t take the warning.
I sat at the dinner table, crying and also begging dad to stay, I don’t think he could hear me over my mom’s threats. He looked at me before shutting the door on his way out, I blinked a couple of times and begged him with my eyes to stay, I guess he didn’t hear the hidden message.
I wish I could have got that message through him, I wish he could see now what his leaving has done to me, to us, to my life.
“Daniel! Come back! Please, Daniel! Don’t do this to me! To your daughter!”
I ran out after past her and to my dad who was putting his bags into his trunk. I grabbed his warm arm and held like there wasn’t any life left to live.
“Daddy,” I whispered. He stopped and looked down at me, he pressed his other gentle hand on my cheek and I leaned into it; felling his fatherly warmth.
“Daddy, please stay. We need you, I need you. I love you dad.”
My dad doesn’t have a chance to respond because my mother is pushing past me, she starts yelling at dad again and I fall to the ground.
All the sound goes away, I can no longer hear my mother’s screaming rants; all the sound just died away. I start to shake and tears continue to pour down my face, I want my daddy… I want my daddy…
