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Always, Father

Always, Father

A Story by Dusty
"

A description of one of the memories of my childhood. Everything written here is real.. I hope you like it, it was a hard write.

"

 

 

A litte girl dances barefoot on the forest floor, moving her feet in tune with the rainfall of wordless notes escaping her lips, like water dripping from melting icicles. Shafts of sunlight stream down from the trees, illuminating the forest floor. The girl dances in and out of them, spinning through shadow and light. Her wild hair floats easily about her head, forming an earthly halo as it twirls the light in a fountain colored of moistened earth.

 

The soft song becomes one of coherent phrases, a deep agony backing every word, though her voice is but a sigh in the wind. Brambles grab at her tattered skirt, the brown cloth indiscernable from the branches that hold her captive. Her green shirt is snagged as she struggles to free herself, the holes enlarged by the curious hands of the trees. The sharp twigs scratch small lines in the mud splattered on her bare legs, revealing the deep abrasions that flaunt their several different shades of purplish brown. These are the marks of her father's love, the bruises to remind her that he only wants what is best.

 

The song floats into a whisper of guilt, a worry for the dear brother who still sits in his room back home. Her voice beats against the trees like bat's wings in an empty cave, a hollow echo in deep silence. The girl moves her calloused feet painlessly through the thorns, reminded of the bent nails still lying by her open window and the hammer she carelessly left sitting out. Should someone enter her room before she returns, she knows these things would not go unnoticed.

 

A shudder runs through her frail body, and her voice wavers. The forest is cold, the dirt still frozen beneath her feet. Yet, for the girl, comfort exists only in the breathing silence of the budding trees, the soft pull of the wind on her skin, and the sweet promise of the unbroken path weaving before her. Each day the birds beckon and the trees offer protection, but the girl is most often forced to turn away by narrowed eyes from an open door. Today though, when the narrowed eyes were locked out by a keyhole and solid wood in their hands, the girl could no longer resist.

 

As she walks, the sky darkens. Pastel blue fades into flirtatious pink and listless purple, who are unwilling to share any glory with the feeble rays of the dying sun. The girl sighs, turning the opposite way, able only to focus on the unexplored path she leaves behind her. Reluctantly, her feet carry her away.

 

She breaks free of the forest, her arms scraped from the trees unwilling farewell. The cold air envelops her, conjuring bumps on her exposed flesh. The daunting reality does nothing to warm her as she steps slowly through the blackened streets. She knows what he will say, she hears his words with the scrape of her feet on the cement.

 

"Where were you?" he will ask, his voice tight with control.

 

"In the forest," she will mouth softly, looking at her place on the floor.

 

"What were you doing out there? You were supposed to be cleaning your room!" he replies, his teeth scraping his bottom lip in frustration.

 

"I wanted to sing," the girl says simply, as confused about her motives as he.

 

"You stupid girl, there is more to life then singing!" he spits, fists clenched at his sides. His brown eyes are clouded in ignorance. The girl remains silent, her moist gaze directed only at his feet. He sighs.

 

"You know you'll be punished, right?" he says angrily, unamused by her detatched manner.

 

"Yes, Father," the girl replies, her voice cooly accepting.

 

"And was it worth it?" the father asks, wanting her to cower and beg before him. But she gave him no power, instead she simply brought her calculating eyes up to look at him. They harbored no fear.

 

"Always, Father."

© 2010 Dusty


Author's Note

Dusty
This is an actual conversation I had with my father, and this is a happening from my childhood. I was 8 years old at the time. Please, point out any errors you find, and I would like to know of what the message is you believe this story points out if you would be so kind as to tell me. Thanks all for reading! :) Wishing you all the best!

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910 Views
Added on February 8, 2010
Last Updated on March 28, 2010
Tags: child abuse, forest, singing, little girl, innocence, consequence, trees, nature, love
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Author

Dusty
Dusty

Crown Point, IN



About
Hey everyone! My name is Aly. I am 15 years old and live with my mother and brother in a house with our 7 pets. We have two cats -Matti and Amber, a dog- Skunky, a hedgehog- Harley, a hermit crab -Aug.. more..

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