Daddy Are You Here?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
The reason I may not post any writing is because often, it's very difficult for me to come up with a premise that I would like others to read. This is another creative writing assignment. Warning: some parts might be a little disturbing, and all of this is fictional and anything similar to a real life even is coincidental (I also have been fortunate enough to never encounter a situation as portrayed in this story.)

Submitted: January 02, 2014

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Submitted: January 02, 2014

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A A A


Stephanie Castiglia

11/12/13

Period 2

 

Daddy Are You Here?

 

Really? After all of these years of not giving a shit, you suddenly want to be a part of my life? I wish my mom would have let me stay at home for the weekend, but she just had to go on a business trip for a month. But even then, I would assume that my mom would know that it would be safer to let me be stranded in a dessert than be with my dad. She can’t even stand him. My mom left him when I was four months old. She told me that the reason she left him was because he was irresponsible with me and that they would always fight. About a year later, my parents were legally divorced. My mom has had sole custody of me ever since.

The rare times that my mom has ever left me with him, he ends up leaving the house and not coming back for days. When he does return, he says he had to do some things for work. But we both know what he’s really doing during those long absences. Whenever I’ve had enough courage to try to intervene, he always manages to ignore my pleas to stop.

Usually he’ll do this in two ways, depending on his mood. The first options is him shutting me out, which he doesn when he doesn't want to fight. When he wants to fight, he  tries to defend himself by making up some bullshit about how it relieves his stress. His unfortunate and unbearable stress which he brings onto himself. No one forced him to buy pointless crap, no one told  him to repress his feeling with addictions.

“Why should I even give you another chance? You never there for my birthdays, graduations or any of my recitals. After sixteen years of my life pass why, Cameron why?” I say furiously trying to hide my tears.

“God fucking damnit Valarie you know not to call me Cameron, I’m your father.” He replies.

“You may be my flesh and blood, but you have done nothing to qualify as my father.”

“Yes I have-”

“Paying child support isn’t enough, Dad! Half of the time you’re too busy being a deadbeat bastard who has to borrow money from mom just to pay the rent on this shit hole! And even if you would get off your fucking lazy ass and earn enough money to support your self, it isn't going to keep me happy for very long. I need a guide and a role model and someone to love me. And you have done a shitty job keeping up your status quo.” I can hear my heart pounding. My dad gives me a furious look like a serial killer in a horror movie. He takes a pile of mouse shit on the coffee table. I run to the door to find that it’s locked. But he’s following me with the shit. Being the in the moment, I kick my dad in the balls and run to a window. In a panic,  I grab  the coconut shaped handle of my dad’s sledge hammer nearby and begin breaking the glass. I climb out and land on a plastic reindeer. Christmas isn’t for another two months, but my dad’s too lazy to put holiday decorations back. I can see my dad struggling to get to the window. I run past a an enormous pile of acorns that my dad has put up for sale. (I know my dad collects weird things). I manage to get the cuff of my jeans drenched in mud.

“Valarie get your dumb ass back here right fucking now.” I can here my dad screaming. I don't dare look, and I focus on getting away from him. I accidentally spill a trash can leaving spoiled bananas on the side walk. My dad trips in them, and smears his face. He gets up and keeps running. I keep trying to put distance between us so that I can get into town and get help. Finally I reach town and run into a pastry shop. It’s filled with wedding cakes and the man running the counter looks at me concerned.

  “You have to help me-” I’m almost screaming and frantic. My dad enters the pastry shop and grabs my arm tightly.

  “Let me go you bastard!” I scream at him. The man tries to pry my dad off of me.

  “Let her go or I’m calling the police.” the man says.

  “Fuck off! it’s none of your fucking business, bitch.” my dad yells at the man. I look into my dad’s eyes and see that they’re bloodshot. I know this look too well. My father is on crack. Again.

 

I know at this point there’s no reasoning with him. I punch him hard in the face. My dad is pissed at this point, and  in his fury he lets go of my arm and tries to punch me. I dodge it and run behind the counter. The man running the counter is already talking to the police, and my dad jumps over the counter, which startles the man, and he hangs up. The man is trying to block my dad from me.

“Run through the kitchen and get out of here!” the man says. By now the chefs in the kitchen have had a peek of what's going on in the shop. I run in the kitchen with my dad not too far behind. The other chefs have made a blockade which my dad can’t break easily. I run into the parking lot and begin to hear sirens. The police are here. I contemplate whether I should keep running or not, but then an angry voice tells me I should.

“Bitch! You piece of fucking shit!” My dad yells. I’m running out of energy to run, and I know my dad’s going to literally kill me in the parking lot. I say a few prayers in my head knowing I’m not going to see what’s left of my family again. He scarcely touches my arm when he’s suddenly pulled back.

“Let me go you god damn pretentious shitheads!” he yells, “I need to teach this fucking worthless dumb ass bitch a lesson!” My dad is is slammed to the ground by two officers. I now realize that the staff of the bakery is outside, and man from the counter is next to me. My dad tries to give everyone the finger, but because he’s handcuffed, it’s pointing to no one in particular.

“I’m going to fucking kill you Valerie, just wait you stupid cunt. I’m going to shove a knife up your vagina.” My dad is still yelling but the door is slammed shut. One of the officers comes back.

“Where’s the girl?” the officer asks. I step forward, I’m too shaken from this last scene to do anything more.

“You’re going to have to come down to the station for questioning.” The officer says to me. He can see the terrified look on my face.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. We just need you to answer some questions about the man in our squad car right now.”  The officer assures me. The squad car with my dad has already left, and the officer and I are walking to his squad car. I didn’t know it then, but today was the day I started to breathe. I wouldn’t have to wonder where my dad was at all hours of the night, or if he was dead. I would shortly find myself being too relieved to even grieve about losing him.


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