Lola Bell, The Girl That Runs
Questions
“Why do you love daddy?”
“Lola, your father was a different man when I met and fell in love with him.”
I ponder this answer, trying to get as much information from it as possible. As I do this, all I come up with is questions:
What changed him?
What could he have done that was different than now?
Every moment in my life, all I remember is this man. Not the one mother speaks of. If only I could see him; this man worthy for my mother’s undying love.
As I walk back into the kitchen to face father, to ask if the question that has been bugging me for years, mother turns to me and whispers,
“Be careful. You know your father as well as I do. He does not always take kindly to words.”
Upon hearing that first sentence, I stop. Turn around, and ask,
“Why should I not face him, so that I may get answers once and for all?”
“Because Lola, he is not the man he should be and once was.”
Turning back around towards father, I start my journey. Though the kitchen is only ten feet away, each step feels like I am traveling miles upon miles to reach it. Feelings of doubt, hope and most of all fear run through my mind, like race horses in search for the finish line. Finally I arrive at my own finish line: the kitchen.
“Lola, your father was a different man when I met and fell in love with him.”
I ponder this answer, trying to get as much information from it as possible. As I do this, all I come up with is questions:
What changed him?
What could he have done that was different than now?
Every moment in my life, all I remember is this man. Not the one mother speaks of. If only I could see him; this man worthy for my mother’s undying love.
As I walk back into the kitchen to face father, to ask if the question that has been bugging me for years, mother turns to me and whispers,
“Be careful. You know your father as well as I do. He does not always take kindly to words.”
Upon hearing that first sentence, I stop. Turn around, and ask,
“Why should I not face him, so that I may get answers once and for all?”
“Because Lola, he is not the man he should be and once was.”
Turning back around towards father, I start my journey. Though the kitchen is only ten feet away, each step feels like I am traveling miles upon miles to reach it. Feelings of doubt, hope and most of all fear run through my mind, like race horses in search for the finish line. Finally I arrive at my own finish line: the kitchen.