My Father Charlie | Teen Ink

My Father Charlie

November 30, 2008
By Anonymous

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I shriek sending chills from the tops my finger tips to the bottoms of my heals. I hate this. I hate everything about this. My body weakening, collapsing onto my bed and my head thrusting onto my pillow. The tears keep streaming out. My brand new pillow is now a deep black.

Everything is black. The daylight is gone and I'm freezing. My face is crunchy and I've realized I've done it again. I've fallen asleep crying. The same scene runs through my head. Every single detail more intricate then ever. His voice booming “Abby! Are you in your room?”. His footsteps uneven as he shuffles down the hall, then him toppling against my wall, but stumbling back up. The glass bottle from his hand falling to the floor, shattering into a million pieces, then jetting out in every direction possible. The evil in his eyes staring me down like I was some scummy dog off the street, not the daughter, who he was suppose to love. The smell of rotten eggs mixed with onions slowing oozing out of his mouth, filling up my room till there was no space left for smell to invade. As it comes to the part where the tears arrive I stop the memory, the nightmare and free my mind enough to fall asleep.

“Hey Abby!” Angela squeals. “You know what day it is right?”

“Yeah. It's February 14, Valentines Day,” I murmur back. Exactly a year since it happened. Angela rambles on about her plans for tonight and I listen; hoping her perkiness would rub off on me. Yeah, because that would really happen. Suddenly it silent. So silent you could drop a pin and hear it from the other end of the hall. My feet pick up their pass and get me to math.

I eventually arrive at my boring, white, one story house and to my surprise there was something red and fluffy waiting outside my baby blue front door. It was a cuddly, adorable tiny teddy bear with the words I Still Love You written across its stomach in white stitching. Bending my un-flexible body to reach the bear, and taking it inside, not having a clue who it was from. It was almost as if I had seen it before and played with it. The memory couldn't break free from the cage. It was locked and chained shut.

My legs bring me to my dark, lonely room but my arms are to heavy to turn on the lights. It was cold and the window was open, letting in the smell of smoke from my neighbor next door to me. I climb over my un-maid to reach the window and slam it shut. My feet shuffle me to the bathroom where my long boney fingers turn on the shower and I climb inside. The water trickles down every curve of my slight chunky body as I wash my use to greasy hair with my moms Aussie shampoo. Showers over, I walk back into my room and put on my brothers old, over washed black football sweatpants and his old black skull t-shirt. Trying not let my mind wonder, my index finger hits the round red button on my T.V marked power and the low murmurs fill my mind as my eyes lids become heavy and my body goes to sleep.

Theres a little girl in a light pink paisley dress on. She must have been running around because the tips of her white shoes were tinted brown and her knees were hinted with green. An older women stands in the back round watching this little girl with a wide smile stretches across her face.“Daddy, daddy, daddy! Guess what day it is?” the little one screams to a man stepping out of his black Lexus. “Well it's Wednesday,” the man replied. “No silly it's Valentines Day! I even got you something special!” the little girls announces back pulling something red out from behind her back.

There it was. The red bear, except the words “I Still Love You” weren't there. I can't focus. My eyes burst open to find the tightly slammed window now open and he was standing over me.

“You didn't think I forgot about you did you?” he creepily questions. “I still love you Abby. I'll always love you.”

Similar Articles


This article has 1 comment.

ShaiHulud said...
on Dec. 11 2008 at 3:07 am
Is this about sexual abuse? I don't quite understand...