There For Her

The gun was a gift from my father before he passed away. I never carried it with me, seeing as how I never felt unsafe in my town, even while walking in the streets at night. There could very well be some murderers lurking in the shadows, as our town doesn’t exactly have the most peaceful reputation, but still, I never brought it with me. It always sat there on top of the fireplace, collecting dust. I know it isn’t really a safe spot, and that it should be hidden in a drawer or something--somewhere only I and my daughter would know--but it’s not like I live with children. Valerie’s nearing seventeen. As I looked at it now, with the firelight from the fireplace flickering and radiating its heat across the room, I thought maybe it didn’t have to be used for self-defence, or even murder. Maybe it could be used for something else, arguably worse than both.

While making that decision, I relaxed on that one-person couch thinking of the consequences. There wouldn’t really be any, would there? I’m not exactly needed. By anyone or anything. I don’t make enough with my job at the factory anyway. I’m not an outstanding worker my boss would admire me for, enough to put me on that safe-list for any downsizing. I’m not exactly the top contributor to society. 

Light poured in from the windows next to the fireplace. Val loved it as a kid, always saying how pretty it looked. But she said ever since Mom died, it doesn’t look as bright as it used to. Or maybe she’s outgrown it.

May. I’ll never look at hospital rooms the same way again. The smell of medicine and cleanliness are the smells of health to many, but to me, they’ll always be the smells of death. That’s all that happens at hospitals. They can’t damn save anybody. They couldn’t save May. And we’re supposed to pay them? I can’t even pay for my own bills.

I let out a long exhale. May’s death was years ago. I barely remember the sound of her voice now. And if it weren’t for the picture of her with me and Val on the fireplace, I doubt I’d remember her face too. If there was a person tied to a chair in a dark room, and someone told me I would get May back if I killed him, I would do it in a heartbeat. Hell, I wouldn’t even use a gun or anything, I would choose a knife and twist it into his flesh slowly, no matter how much he screamed, just to ensure his death. Just to ensure that the person ordering me was pleased enough and would go through with his end of the bargain. I’m damn crazy, but I would do it that way, I swear. 

Damn life and its stupid outcomes. Right now, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I wanted to do it just for the hell of it. I got up from the couch and grabbed the picture of the three of us on top of the fireplace, smashing it on the ground. It broke with a satisfying shatter. The glass pieces scattered as soon as the sound reverberated across the house. 

I knew Val would hear, but I didn’t know she’d come downstairs that fast. “What the hell, Dad?” she said, looking at the mess. 

I grumbled. “I’ll clean it up.”

“I’m not helping you. I’m going somewhere.” She put on a leather coat, grabbing her things. She was putting something in her mouth, trying to hide it from me. It was a dart.

“Hey,” I said, approaching her. “Hey!” I didn’t give a damn if I’d accidentally hurt her. I slapped it out of her wrist. 

“Ouch! Dad, why don’t you chill a bit? Go take a nap or something.”

“You think this is a joke? Do you want to end up like Mom?”

“I…” Her eyes fell to the floor for a moment, which made me think I’d gotten through to her for a moment. But only for a moment. Her fierce look came back in an instant and she said, “I’m not going to, Dad. You can stop worrying about me. Hell, worry about yourself. You’re a mess.”

I ignored her and held out a hand. “Give me the lighter.”

She made a frustrated noise and rolled her eyes, but gave it anyway. I knew why. She could easily buy a new one in the next hour or have one of her friends lend her one. I didn’t care. I needed to feel like I won. Even if it was a small victory like this, I needed it. 

She was dressed up. Lots of makeup on. Even her hair was done. When did that happen? Braided ponytail at the back, curls falling on the sides of her face. She never does her hair. And she had a whole pack of darts in her purse. I knew where she was going. I think she realized that as soon as I did because suddenly she had this pleading look in her eyes. She began to say something before I cut her off: “You’re not going to that party.”

“Please, Dad. I don’t ask for anything else, seriously.”

“Why do you think you can argue with me? You’ve lost my trust since the last few ones. I don’t give a damn about your friends or Cain Harrod or how you don’t get to make any choices about your damn life, just please, shut up and stay at home.”

“I won’t even go near Cain! You think I still want to be with him after… after the last time? I don’t even know if he’s going to be there!”

“Val, please.” I took a deep breath and exhaled it again. I was starting to lose my patience now. I don’t know why I expected her to listen after me saying it once, I should have known. I know Val more than my own salary. And I was beginning to shake. I didn’t have any threats. She couldn’t care less if I took her phone, she would just sneak off at midnight anyway. And that would be infinitely worse--the thought of her lost out there without anything for her to call me with. I grabbed her shoulders gently. “Just listen to me Val. Please. Listen to me for once in your stupid, damn life. I want you to stay at home. No excuses, no arguing. Just listen and stay at home. I’m your father, and trust me when I say I’ve been to my fair share of drug and alcohol parties. I don’t want you to regret anything and come running back to me for help. Especially when you can just prevent it altogether.”

If she noticed me shaking like a madman or not, she didn’t care. She shrugged me off, and now she really threw a tantrum. “Fine! God, you are such an a*s. I swear you never care to think about anything I want. Or anything that I’m feeling. If you did, if you really did, you’d let me go!”

“Val, please just go to your room.”

She didn’t at first, though. She continued to yell and scream at me for a good couple of minutes. She even tried going for the door, but I blocked her path. She had tears, now. Streams down her face as she tried to get past me. I grabbed her wrists and said, “Stop, Val. You’re not going.”

“Why!” she screamed.

“Don’t ask me why. You sure as hell know why. Don’t play these foolish games with me. Go to your room.”

“Get off me!” She shook me off again. She began stomping her way to the stairs, still sobbing. “I hate you, you know? I wish you were dead. I can take care of myself, damn good too. Much better than any way you can. M--Mom took better care of me. I don’t need you! I hope you die tonight. I don’t want you at my graduation. I don’t want you at my wedding! Don’t come, I swear to god, don’t! I hope you just kill yourself tonight! I don’t want to see you again! I hate you!”

She said the last words as she slammed the door of her room as hard as she could. It shook the entire house. Glass vases shook and the floor vibrated. I stood there, paralyzed for a moment. I was in some sort of trance or shock. But soon I broke out of it and ran my hands through my messy hair. 

The whole house was eerily silent. The fire in the living room still crackled softly, but even Val’s faint sobs in her room were more audible. That’s good. Crying is fine, Val. It’s sure as hell better than going to that stupid party of hers. No doubt she’ll receive a wave of texts and calls on why she wasn’t there. And when she was ready, her tears dried up, she’d answer about how much of an a*s I was. But I couldn’t care less. She mattered more to me. 

I went over to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. I noticed a few were missing since I last opened the door. I cursed and promised myself I should hide them better. No doubt Val took some and drank them with her friends or something, getting drunk as hell in a parking lot. 

I kicked a few shards of glass on the floor near where I was going to sit on the couch and took long swigs from the bottle. I knew Val would scold me if she saw me, complaining about how I was a drunken mess and how I yelled at her for doing the same thing. That’s the point, Val. I don’t want you to become me. You’re better than that. You’re smart, you’re talented, you can get into a university. A damn good one too. I know you can. But you won’t if you end up drowning in these parties. Take a look at me.

Once more, the gun on the fireplace grabbed my attention. It sat there so casually, yet was powerful enough to end a life. To end hopes and dreams. To end future birthdays, future tears of pain, future tears of joy, future happiness, future sadness. More than ever, I considered walking up there and just going for it. Things, or life in general, have went downhill ever since May died, especially for Val. I know she doesn’t tell me directly, but I think she blames me for it. Well, a few moments ago she did. I think she’s blamed me for everything since that incident. Maybe she’s right. I’ve been blaming life and luck, but maybe it’s just me. So, I stared at the gun in contemplation. The last thing I remember was my eyes still on it before I passed out.

#

I woke up with a splitting headache. So, the usual, I told myself. The wine bottle in my hand was empty and half of my body was off the couch. My stomach ached, my fingers were numb, and my vision was slightly blurry as I stood up.

“Val?” was the first thing I said. It always was, after these types of knockouts. But my throat was still dry, and it came out more like a hiss. I needed to fully get my senses back before trying again.

I walked to the sink in the bathroom to wash my face. I held a hand on my forehead the whole way. My eyes were closed most of the time and I almost tripped twice. I think one of the times, it was the pieces of broken glass still on the floor. I’ll sweep it later, I kept telling myself. I wish I could get Val to help me, but I knew she wouldn’t. She’d say it was my fault anyway. That I only made messes in the house so I could get her to clean it up as punishment or some crazy nonsense like that. 

After washing my face and cupping my hands to drink some water from the faucet, I wiped it with a towel and stretched. I was fully aware, now. I didn’t know what time it was. Val could be sleeping, but I didn’t care. I wanted to check on her.

“Val?” I yelled again. 

I decided not to waste time yelling and actually check on her instead. While walking upstairs, a terrible feeling washed over me. I don’t know why. I’m paranoid like that. I dreaded what I would find through the door. But I opened it.

She wasn’t there. A panic attack almost made me collapse. Her window was open. She must’ve climbed out, thinking I would have seen her if she tried to sneak out the front door, not knowing I had passed out on the couch. She climbed down two stories. Oh, god. The damn girl--she probably realized my authority didn’t come with any power. That she had no restraints without my presence. 

I really began to panic now. Checking the time, it was really late, too. It was near six in the morning. Who the hell throws a party that goes near six in the morning? I started having all these thoughts. She could have gotten lost, kidnapped, left by her friends… I shivered. I wanted to slam the wall until it fell down, but I was way too weak, practically half-incapacitated. 

I scrambled for my phone in my pocket. I called her. Fearing the worst, I was right. She didn’t answer. If there’s one rule she knows, it’s answer the phone. No matter where the hell she is. I really began to panic. 

Then a light appeared outside. I saw it through the open window. It was a taxi, slowing down. It was stopping at our driveway.

I raced downstairs faster than I’ve ever gone in my entire life, although it probably wasn’t that fast, me still being hungover and all. I was probably slamming into walls and shaking the roof. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if the entire house crashed or burned as I made it outside. Hell, I didn’t care if the entire universe exploded as I made it outside. As long as I got to her. 

The taxi driver was already pulling away as I got outside. When I saw her, tears filled my eyes. Hers were already full of them, limping toward me. She couldn’t even make it halfway before she collapsed. I ran to her. 

“Val?” I must have woken up all our neighbours with the word, but I didn’t care. I knelt in front of her, burning my knees. I took her face in my hands. She was so drunk, she could barely keep her eyes open. Or high. I don’t know. I don’t know where she’s been at all, or what she’s done. But she was here. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said through tears. “I… I went. I made a mistake. Cain, he… he…”

“You went near that boy?”

“I’m sorry. I…” She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she surprised me with a tight hug, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

At first, my arms stood there uselessly. I didn’t want to embrace her back. Why did I want this girl back? She disobeyed me, this not even being the first time. One of countless times. She disrespected me. She shattered my soul. And now she has to pay for the consequences. 

I wanted to push her off me! I wanted to disown her, tell her to get lost, tell her to never come back. I wanted to tell her I’d sure as hell not come to her graduation. Or her wedding. Oh god, how bad I wanted to throw her off a cliff! How bad I wanted to abandon her in the street!

But I didn’t. I realized, too, that not just I didn’t, I didn’t want to. And I didn’t know why. But hell, I did. Of course, I did. It was only this moment that made me learn it, too. It was only this moment that made me claim that so-called and famous feeling every human longed for--the one that transcended all space and time. I realized why that night, I didn’t disown my dear, sweet Valerie. I realized why that night, I didn’t hurt her at all. Instead, I hugged her back, giving her my warmth. It felt like forever, but we didn’t care. We were both glad to be there. We didn’t want to let go. And when she finally passed out, I picked her up gently. I carried her to her bed. I tucked her under the sheets. That was all that I did instead.

She was half-awake when she saw me tucking her in. As soon as she did, tears began to fill her eyes again. I hushed her quietly. She needed to rest. Then she whispered, “Thank you, Dad. I… I need you. I love you.”

I was jarred, of course. I had never heard that before. Or, at least, in a long, long time. Enough to be surprised at such a specific but sweet sound. So my eyebrows were raised. And there it was. That feeling. It came as it always did, during moments like these. That strange feeling. By some mysterious and supernatural force of nature, I was compelled to say, “I love you,” back.

And I did. 

She had a little smile before falling into her deep slumber. And when I saw it, I made my decision. I knew I had to anyway, and better now or never. A while ago I was contemplating the reasons why I should do it, but maybe I should have been contemplating the reasons not to. Hell, I swear, I’m a damn fool.

I realized the decision wasn’t mine anyway. Not mine to make. In fact, the decision was never about me. It was about her, who slept on her bed peacefully, apologizing like a madwoman nonetheless in her dreams. She said she needed me.

So I grabbed my coat, putting it on. I snatched my car keys as well as the gun on the fireplace. I headed out the door and got in my car.

I drove to the lake. It was a small one, and it wasn’t too far. In the past, I went there sometimes with May and Val, sometimes to swim or just watch the sunset. I miss those times so much. I haven’t been there in a while. When I arrived, I never thought it would look so ghastly reflecting the moonlight. Yet beautiful as well.

I stood at the edge, bringing out the gun in my pocket. I exhaled. This was it.

I closed my eyes. I brought my arm back and threw the gun as far as I could, into the lake. I let out a long, shaky breath and got in my car. Then I drove home afterwards. 

I never saw it hit the water.

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