Save Me.

I pulled my feet up onto the couch and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep every bit of heat I had from escaping. It worked a little, until the door suddenly opened to reveal the last person I wanted to see right now.

Scratch that, the last person I wanted to see, ever.

He walked slow and sluggish to the couch where I was perched and suddenly stopped, just staring at me with tears in his eyes. I sighed despite myself. I shouldn’t be happy that he’s sad, he’s still my father, but I couldn’t help but to think of the upside to this situation.


At least he had drunk himself into a sad stupor instead of an angry one.

I could sleep tonight, if only I could block out his sobbing from the next room over. If only, if only...

“I’m so sorry, Meggie.” He whispered, salt water began to soak my shoulder as I grabbed him in order to keep him from toppling over. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I muttered. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get him to help me while dragging him up the stairs and into his room.

“No, no, no...” he paused to choke out another sob, “I’m sorry for a reason.” For a second I stopped trying to move him and just turned to watch his face. No anger there, and now I was even more cautious. “I’m such a monster.” I couldn’t hold up his weight and he dropped to his knees, pulling me with him just a little.

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“I’m so sorry,” he placed his big hands on my shoulders, weighing them down just a little, “I just can’t help it, I can’t.” He looked me in my eyes and my heart almost broke with one small glance at his glistening green eyes. The same green my eyes were.

Almost.

“I just miss her so much.” He slurred, half out of fatigue and half because of all of the booze he’d just consumed. “She was so beautiful, you know? You know you take after her, you know?” He was starting to not make any sense to me, but I just kept nodding as I held his head in the crook of my neck.

It was true, I did take after my mother. I had the same unruly brown hair and the same facial features. If it weren’t for my eyes, you’d never know I was related to my father.

“Sometimes I just can’t...” He stopped, and I felt his nose, running, crinkle into my skin before he sniffled and started again. “Sometimes I just get so angry because you remind me of her so much.” I let my head fall slowly so it rested into his hair that still smelled strongly of the shampoo he had used this morning. “But I’m not mad at you.” He said quickly, reassuringly. “I’m never mad at you.”

I had to ask. “Then why do you do it?”

“I’m angry at me, but I just-I just can’t think.” He stopped and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Can’t think, I mean. I don’t know what to do.” I lifted my head and ran my hands soothingly through his hair. “Oh, Meggie, I’m so sorry. She just left, and I’m so mad. So mad that I let her go.”

He kept mumbling, but I blocked him out. I just kept running my fingers through his once short, now growing out, hair, trying to get him to cooperate. “You don’t get it!” He suddenly yelled, grabbing my arm, then letting his hand slide down to touch my wrists.

His touch felt different on the pale and shiny skin of the scars.

“No matter what I do, no matter what I say, and those friends, and I try, Meggie, I do. I really do try, hard. But you always seem to think it’s your fault. Always.” He placed his hands gently on either side of my face, holding my gaze. I let my eyes fall to the scars and suddenly I felt very small and selfish. I felt stupid. “It’s never your fault, Meggie. It never would be. It never...” I shushed him and half smiled.

“I know.” I whispered, trying to not peek at his tear-stained cheeks. This pathetic father was even worse than the monster one. “C’mon. To bed?” I more asked rather than told him. I was still afraid that the monster, the animal inside of him, would come back and lash out at me. He shook his head sadly.

“Not until you understand, Meggs.” He hadn’t called me that since before mom left. He was serious. “You have to-you have to know that it’s not you. It’s me.” He giggled a little then straightened his face out. “I love you, I really do. I can’t help it, I really can’t. And you can’t stop it either, and that makes me sad, but you know it’s true, and I know it’s true and the people down the street do to.” He was starting to get loony and I couldn’t seem to understand a thing he was saying. “You love me, right?”

“Of course.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat and thought for a minute and the silence burned in my ears. “Why haven’t you run away yet?” He asked honestly, and really, I had no answer to that. I didn’t know why.

“Because, maybe, I think you’ll change.”

“Well, you know, it’s never not enough or time can’t... what’s the saying again. It’s not that it’s,” he paused and pressed a thumb and fore-finger to his temple, “I don’t remember now. But it sounded right. The point was you’d rather die than run?”

“I think you were going for it’s not too late to run.” I muttered almost under my breath.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “maybe,” his smiled fell and confusion filled his eyes, “I don’t know,” he frowned. I smiled down at him and shook my head. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a monster, Meggie.”


I sighed because it was just an on-going circle and I’d already heard enough of it.

You could only have so much sympathy for the devil.

“You’re drunk, dad. Let’s get you to bed.” I mumbled trying to stand, but he held me down. He kept putting an endless weight on my shoulders.

There was enough weight there to destroy a person. There was enough weight there to kill a person. There was enough weight to squish a person to death.

I should be so lucky.