I stared intently at the clock,
watching as the hands crawled around and around, as though they
hoped reaching the new hour would allow them to rest. The clock
struck four. The hands kept crawling.
My arm extends out to the right, still
reaching for someone that it refuses to accept no longer sleeps next
to me. It can't feel the curve of her body in the mattress. The
pillow is still fluffed, having not experienced the weight of a heavy
mind and deep thoughts in weeks. I haven't washed the sheets since
she left. They still hold her scent. It's the only thing I have left
that belonged to her. It was the only thing that she couldn't throw
into a box and throw into the back of her car. If I wash them, I will
lose the only thing I have left. I'm just not ready for that. I will
be soon, I swear, but not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.
As I sat up and dragged myself to the
edge of the bed, I caught of glimpse of my reflection in the window.
My eyes were bloodshot to all hell; the skin beneath them blacker
than death and hanging on by a thread. I looked like a meth addict
feels after coming off a bad high. I'm still wearing what I wore to
work today. I must have forgotten to change when I got home. I
honestly don't remember. The whole day has been a blur. Most days
have been a blur. I think its... Tuesday? Thursday maybe? It doesn't
really matter. Everything has been on repeat since she left.
The first step was the worst. Being
struck by the hammer of a vengeful god couldn't have made my head
feel any worse. My legs gave out from under me, as they recognized
that my belt had cut have the circulation to my lower half when I was
lying around. I fell backwards, first bracing myself against the bed
with my arms, but ultimately letting myself fall back into the
bittersweet embrace of the bed. The white bareness of the ceiling
bore into my eyes, as the constant ticking of the clock impregnated
my ears with a rhythmic .
I thought about my belt cutting off the
circulation to my legs. It choked my waist from day-to-day, all in
the name of keeping my pants where they were supposed to be. Even the
cutting off of the circulation was a testament to the talent of the
belt. It was performing its intended duty. Anything less would have
shown the belt to be flawed. That was its design.
It was meant for choking.
I stood back up and undid my belt,
holding it up at arm's length, staring at it as though it would speak
to me...
Do it.
I
should have been scared. I should have been terrified. I wasn't. The
voice soothed me. It was the voice of someone convincing; the voice
of someone who knew that my problem could be solved. I trusted the
voice. I walked over to the door and sat down in front of it. The
door handle was still a decent distance away, which would make things
easier. I attached one of the belt to the handle and began to wrap
the other end around my neck. I heard a light tap on the door.
“Daddy?”
I
froze in place. Her tiny voice could barely be heard through the
door. She sounded lost. She probably had another nightmare. I didn't
respond. The door handle started to turn as she tried to push in. I
held the door shut.
“Daddy?
Daddy, what's happening? I can't open the door,” she squeaked, the
panic emerging in her voice as she felt that something was wrong.
“Hey
sweetie. Everything's okay. Daddy's just a little busy right now,
okay?” I tried to sound okay. I quickly learned that it's hard to
sound okay with a belt wrapped around your neck.
“Daddy!
Daddy! Let me in please! I'm scared! I need you Daddy.” I could
hear the lump in her throat forming. The first tear drop hit the
ground and with it my stomach dropped.
“Sweetie.
Sweetie. Listen to me sweetheart. Everything is going to be okay,
okay? Did you have another nightmare?” She nodded her head with a
ferocity that I could hear her hair whipping through the air. It made
me smile, just a little.
“Sweetheart.
We've talked about this. The monsters are only in your head. I
promise. I've been alive since the dinosaurs were around, and I've
never seen a monster!” The joke fell flat. The silence made me
cringe.
“I
didn't dream about monsters, Daddy. I – I h-had a dream about
M-Mommy,” she sobbed, barely able to form the words through the
snot and tears. In that moment, I wish that I'd been hit by a ton of
bricks. It would have hurt less. I didn't have any breath left to say
anything.
“D-Daddy?
DADDY! W-where are y-you? T-Talk t-to m-me.”
“Ah...
I'm... I'm here sweetheart. What... What did you dream about?”
“W-well
f-first all three of us were together,” she seemed to be getting a
hold on the sobbing, “and we were so happy... You and Mommy took me
to the park, and took turns pushing me on the swing. And then, Mommy
was pushing me and you were standing in front of me and watching me
swing. But – but then...” The tears started to flow again, “then
Mommy wasn't pushing me anymore. And you were crying Daddy. You were
crying so much. I – I got off the swing and turned around to see
where M-Mommy went. Sh-She was running away from us. A-and then I-I
s-started chasing her, and I s-started s-screaming for her. B-but she
wouldn't s-stop, Daddy. She kept running.” The sobbing wouldn't
stop. She started to hyperventilate, gasping for breath in between
each cry for her mother.
“D-Daddy.
W-Why did Mommy r-run aw-away? W-What d-did I do wrong?” Her
innocent little voice broke my heart.
“Sweetheart...
Sweetie no... You didn't do anything wrong. Mommy loved you very
much. She just needed to go for a while. I'm sure she'll come and see
you soon. You are the best little girl a Mommy and Daddy could ever
ask for. This isn't your fault.” I couldn't keep back the tears any
longer. My voice broke and the tears rolled down my face.
Do it.
It
spoke again, attempting to take away the pain; attempting to take
away the thoughts of the little girl with the broken heart on the
other side of door.
Do it.
And I wanted to do it so bad. It felt as though the belt was
tightening itself around my neck, slowly taking the life away from my
body. I didn't realize that I was sinking down to the floor. I felt
light-headed. I liked it.
Do it.
“Daddy? Are you
going to run away like Mommy?”
Do it.
“Daddy?” She
pushed against the door.
Do it.
“DADDY?!?!” She
screamed, putting her entire being into opening that door.
Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.
Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.
My little
sweetheart opened the door, and there I stood, my shirt and cheeks
stained with tears. I gave her the largest smile I could muster.
“Hello there,
pretty lady. Don't worry, I'm not going to run away. I couldn't leave
my little sweetheart all on her own, now could I?” She giggled
through the tears and ran towards me, jumping up into my chest. I
caught her and fell backwards onto the bed, holding her close to my
chest.
“Daddy?”
“Yes sweetheart?”
“I'm glad that
you're my Daddy. I love you.”
“I'm glad that
you're my sweetheart. I love you too.”
