Darkened Heart

Chapter Eighteen

The sun was setting outside when they came back. As much as she wanted to curl up in bed and sleep the night away, there was much to do. Some things, however, she didn't know how to handle. After all, her father just died... As for the other father, she had never seen him so curious. He examined every inch of his reformed body, marveling at how new he appeared. At first, they stood there right outside what used to be the door to the other world. She watched him as he dragged his fingers through his raven hair, his soft flesh, and his eyes... oh his eyes. "I still don't believe it, my dear! I'm free. I'm actually free." He smiled. Then, something unthinkable happened. A loud growl made its way into her ears. The other father, still in his state of confusion as he held her, then went slightly pink with embarrassment. "I believe I'm in need of food?" He said it as if it were a question, still unsure. In her mixed emotions, he caused her to giggle. "Sure, I'll order out." Her mind, meanwhile, was screaming at her. "You're father just died! You saw it with your own eyes! You let it happen! Show some sadness, some anger- SOMETHING!" In that moment, she couldn't find it in herself to listen. It was too much. Her head began to ache. First thing was first, clean up, fill some stomachs, get some rest, and think fresh in the morning. There were splinters all over the room from what had happened, and the crawlspace door looked even more tattered than ever. Trying not to dwell on everything, they both walked into the kitchen. She found her father's unused flip phone and dialed Pizza Hut. As for the other father, he didn't know what to feel either. It had been literal centuries since he had tasted something other than bugs along with many other things that moved and struggled as he swallowed. His eyes were what felt the most different. They weren't stiff anymore. He didn't have to see from the multiple perspectives of his puppets. Instead, he had the privilege of simply blinking.

The delivery came quick, and the next thing they knew, there was a box of hot, steaming food sprawled out on the kitchen table. The other father, still wondering if he was somehow dreaming, lifted a slice of pepperoni to his lips before taking a bite. His eyes widened. Chewing, he felt the warmth pour throughout his body. "A-Are you alright?" Charlotte asked, sitting across from him already halfway through her own plate. He didn't realize it, but a single tear rolled down his cheek. It was a tear of relief, a tear of happiness. "I'm wonderful... just wonderful." He sniffed, taking another two slices from the greasy box. She smiled lightly. Maybe she did make the right choice. After all, what grown man would cry over pizza? A little bit of sauce got stuck in his facial hair, like a child. She couldn't help but laugh a little before telling him. Of course, he felt embarrassed yet again, but he was also happy. He thought about all those dinners he had prepared for her, the children, anyone who wandered through his door. Was this how happy they felt after eating? Content and complete? He didn't even have this-this modern food during his time. The only reason he knew of it was because of certain deeds. They both ate until they were full. Charlotte missed this, eating with him. That single tear was only the beginning. She couldn't help but cry with him along with every bite. Suddenly letting go of her dad oddly felt relieving, yet she also felt grief. Dinner seemed to last a long time. Thought after thought came and went. Their plates were both clean and the pizza box was now just an ordinary box.

"Charlotte?" He asked after wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin. "Yes?" She replied. "Do you suppose... I could sleep with you tonight?" He asked. She blushed, and nodded. "I would like that very much." Charlotte was glad he asked. She couldn't imagine being alone after what had happened. If anything, she wanted him to be beside her. She didn't want any pillow to cry into, she wanted his chest. He helped her clean up the kitchen afterwards, even washing a few dishes while he was at it even though she told him not to worry about it. It was funny, because as soon as she mentioned the dirty dishes, he had snapped his fingers in an effort for them to magically wash themselves. Only then, he quickly realized he no longer could do such a thing, which made her giggle. He laughed when she laughed. Who could resist such an adorable sound? Doing things by hand, besides sewing of course, would take some getting used to. "We'll sleep in my room. I... I don't think I'm ready to walk into my dad's space yet." She said a little sheepishly. "I understand." He placed his hand on top of hers, which was resting on the counter. With a lump in her throat, she turned to walk upstairs and get ready for bed. Her mind needed rest. It was too cloudy with grief and sadness, but also happiness. Her father was in a better place, a place where he'd have his happy ending. Every step up the stairs felt heavy. She made her way into the familiar hall, and for some reason even after all this time, it still never felt like she was truly home. However, it was good enough. Charlotte wasted no time in selecting a pair of light blue pajamas before going to the restroom to shower. When she walked into the small bathroom, she realized it wasn't as disgusting as she remembered. Even if there was a roach or two, it was nothing compared to the horrors she had fought. In a way, she was glad. She was glad she had the courage.