Always, Father

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 little girl dances barefoot on the forest floor, a heavy song escaping through her lips in her tinny, melodic voice. The tall trees reach out and over her, a protective shelter high above her head. Shafts of sunlight stretch down, illuminating the frolicking seeds of the wishing flower the little girl had just blown out. Her hair catches the rays of light and twirls them as she spins, the long, curly, earth brown strands floating about her head like an earthly halo.

She herself looks like a thing of the forest, with green-grey eyes that give her a look of knowledge far beyond her years. She wears a knee-length, brown, patchwork skirt that has beading dangling from the frayed lace at the edges Her shirt is a simple green t-shirt that clings tightly to her body, as it has obviously grown too small. Beneath the mud splattered on her bare legs, several dark obtusions can be seen. These are the marks of her father's love, the bruises to remind her that he only wants what is best.

Her mother is gone again, somewhere out avoiding the house. The little girl is supposed to be cleaning her room and thinking of what she did wrong, but as she looked out her window and off the front porch, she saw the forest behind the next street, the birdsong singing a cheery tone and the trees promising protection.

And so, here she is, risking her father's wrath for a simple song shared with her sole friends the trees. She knows she will pay dearly when her father finally unlocks her door and finds how she took a hammer and pried the nails from her window, but for now, she just wants to enjoy a single moment of freedom. She does not wish to think of the beating she will recieve when she returns home, or the pain in her mother's eyes when she finally comes back. She wishes only to enjoy her moment in the sunshine, the liberty of her own voice, and the company of nothing but the wavering path ahead that promises a sweet kiss of mysterious comfort.  

Here, in the breathing silence of the trees and the soft pull of the wind on her skin, she does not hear the echo of her father's threats. She does not worry over when she will see her mother next, or guilt that she once more could not protect her brother from their father. But still, still, even in this world of peace, she knows it will not last forever. So as the sunlight weans from the sky and the owls hoot a last farewell, she walks away, her arms scratched from the forest's last embrace.

She knows what he will say. She hears it in her head as she walks through the darkening streets.

"Where were you?"

"In the forest."

"Why did you go there? You were supposed to be cleaning your room!"

"I wanted to sing."

"You stupid girl, there is more to life than singing. You will be punished, are you aware of this?"

"Yes, Father."

"And was it worth it?"

"Always, Father."

 

Author's Note

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!