Sweet Ransom

“Sarah honey, I’m home!” my father husky voice echoed throughout our quiet home.

I smiled ear to ear and ran downstairs, jumping into my father’s welcoming arm. My father worked overseas and he had been away for the past month in Australia closing some business deal. Although I didn’t really enjoy not seeing him for what seemed like such a long time I really appreciated the presents that were always brought home as a somewhat apology for not being around. He is the best dad I could ever ask or hope for.

“I got you something sweetie” he said into my ear as we were still hugging.

“What?!” I smiled brightly pulling away from him.

“Well I know it’s a little early now and you may not want to wear it but I know you have your school prom soon and so while I was in Australia I got your mother to send me the pictures of those dresses you were looking at in magazines and your measurements and I got you a dress made” he smiled and opened his suitcase before pulling out an amazing dark purple dress. It was absolutely perfect.

It was a strapless dress which was a dark, midnight purple. As it was a strapless dress it had small and delicate detailing which embodied the breast area in a creative pattern. I smiled as I held the flattering dress against my body in a pleased motion.

I screamed in excitement and wrapped my arms around his neck “thank you, thank you, thank you!” I yelled continuously in his ear.

“Anything for you Hun. Now I didn’t get you shoes or any accessories because I didn’t know if you would like the dress or not so…”

“Dad I love it” I butted in mid-sentence.

“Good” he smiled “But, what I was saying was I’m going to take you shopping tomorrow afternoon after school and we can get you everything you want and need for the prom as well as make a hair appointment and whatever else you need done beforehand”

“Thank you so much Dad, you’re the best!”

“Like I said, anything for you my beautiful daughter” he kissed my forehead delicately.

It had been a week since the incident that occurred with him with the whole shower situation. Every day since then after I have breakfast in my room he attempts to get me to communicate with him and he apologizes profusely. I can’t trust him, he tells me he wants to help me but I physically and emotionally cannot accept what he says. Although I did kind of find it funny him begging for my forgiveness. It could all be lies though and I don’t really know if I want to take the risk.

“Morning Sarah” Judy smiled as she entered my room.

“Hi” I gulped, knowing the time of day was looming.

“Your mum is here”

I smiled brightly but it soon faded “Is he here?”

“Max? Or your father?” she asked.

“Both”

Judy showed a half-hearted smile and nodded softly. A small pit of rage grew in my stomach, I knew Judy’s intentions were all pure and she wanted to do whatever she could to help me get better but I couldn’t help but hate them.

“I’m sorry sweetheart” Judy sighed giving me a side hug “Can you do me a favour and try your best to make an effort with both your father and Maxwell today? I know they will both really appreciate the smallest of things okay? I’ll see you later” she said before walking out.

The door was only closed for a minute or two before mum and he walked in. I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip, ignoring the slight taste of blood; I backed myself up tightly into the corner of my room. I felt my hands begin to tremor uncontrollably; his face fell dramatically after seeing my reaction to his presence. I didn’t want to hate or fear my own flesh and blood.

“Hi sweetie” My mother cooed as she entered, placing her bag on the stool in the corner of the room. I didn’t greet her though, my eyes were fixed on the man standing limply in the far corner of the room; pain seeping from his eyes as he avoided my harsh gaze.

“I got you some new clothes the other day for when you get better. I also brought you some new toothpaste and a brush” she continued, organising and cleaning features of my blank and bare room. The way she said “Get better” made me cringe – it was like I was some mental case with a serious problem. Maybe I was a serious problem. I wish I was normal.

I sucked in a deep and long breath “Hi Dad” I forced out the simple words in a mutter which was barely audible.

Both of my parent’s eyes lit up in amazement and stared an endless gaze in my direction. The pain which flooded his eyes now dripped singularly down his cheek in the form of a tear. A small smile formed on his awful lips and I had to look down. Just to talk to him took so much of my pure will I didn’t know how much more I could take. This was the first time I had normally spoken to him as a human being oppose to the normal yelling and screaming at him that usually came with his presence.

“Hi Sarah” his filthy voice spoke with purity. Something about the tone of his voice didn’t feel like a lie, it seemed sincere – something inside me felt compassion towards him. I didn’t understand what I should have been feeling, I was torn.

I could feel that I was slowly, very slowly gaining some form of understanding and trust back for this once predominate figure of my life. For some reason I didn’t feel like he was going to hurt me as such, or lie to me. Deep inside of me I still loved my father and I really didn’t want to hurt him so much. I had started to realise that if my mother – my ultimate dependence in life – if she could trust, understand and believe in something I thought was despicable then it had to have some form of goodness and decency about it. It was just extremely hard turning my thoughts into a more reality based attempt at changing my way of thinking and acting.

For what seemed like hours my parents stood together and for once I seen a smile on their faces opposed to their usual pain and suffering. I knew my fucked up life was taking a toll on themselves individually but also their marriage. I hated the fact I was hurting my mother and her happiness even more then I hated them. Soon they left, for once my father wasn’t forced out of the room because I was having a panic attack or throwing something in his direction. He was leaving at his own will for once and he had a look of pleasure stretched across his face. I sort of felt pleased with myself, my actions and my self-accomplishment.

Silence echoed throughout the cold room, I shivered and rolled myself into a tight ball. Facing the wall, I breathed heavily knowing what was looming. I tried to calm my breathing but I didn’t work.

“You did so well today Sarah” his dreadful voice resonated through the room. “Your Dad looked so happy Sarah, you should be so proud of yourself!”

I stayed silent and attempted to control my rapid breathing. The voice had become something I was slowly becoming accustom to, I recognised it as a daily ritual to be helped tormented by the man behind the microphone.

“Sarah, I know this is hard for you. I can’t begin to imagine how your feeling at the moment but can you please just listen to me?” he asked “Can you nod or something so I know you are? Show me a signnnnn!” he laughed lightly dragging out his over-dramatic words.

Unintentionally I smiled into the wall at his somewhat attempt of a joke; unconsciously i nodded for no apparent reason. I seconded guessed my reply at him the moment I had completed the gesture. Why was I communicating with him?

“Okay good then…” he said in a cheerful tone “I want to tell you about why I want to help you. I know it may seem weird, no actually… it would be fucked up for you to have a type of person you are so fearful of say that they want to help you but I’m telling you right now from the bottom of my heart my reasons for this are 100% sincere. I’m still a patient of this centre, I will be for probably another month or so. At the moment I’m clean but as you know I’m in a band called Escape The Fate so I can’t be touring with them as due to my fucked up habits I have a tendency to relapse and the rock’n’roll lifestyle I’m living doesn’t help. Have you ever heard of my band before?” he asked.

I softly nodded. Escape the Fate was one of the bands I used to rebel against my mother and father with. It all started with Ronnie Radke and then proceeded to Craig Mabbitt, I had followed Escape the Fates journey through the years. Back before all the pain and suffering that surrounded my years in which I fell into music as a safe haven for all my wrong doing.

“Oh cool” he chirped “Well like I said the band is on tour now but hopefully I’ll be back to tour with them for the Australian Dead Masquerade tour with the band Pierce the Veil. I want to use my time here to help people achieve normality like I have after being here for a while. Trust me when I say I know what you’re going through with your addiction and I promise I will try my absolute best to help you overcome your fear” he paused for a few moments “How are you Sarah?”

I shrugged in reply, I heard him sigh over the microphone. In some way I kind of felt bad that he was making all this effort to try and get me to communicate with him and eventually cure or subsidise my fear of his kind but at the moment I had to take it one step at a time.

“Hey Sarah, do you have a favourite childhood memory, or anything about your childhood or teenage years that you want to tell me about?” he asked trying to instigate conversation. His question instantly began to run through my mind, memories flashed vividly before my eyes.

“Sarah! What in the world do you think you’re doing wearing that and where do you think you’re going?!” My mother furiously yelled at me as I tried to sneak out of the house.

“What I’m wearing? Can’t you see for yourself you blind bitch! And for your information, I’m going to Brock’s 19th!” I yelled back at her bitterly.

“Sarah, you need to stop all this nonsense of wearing these clothes, acting the way you do and going out to parties. Your only 17!”

“Listen up, listen real carefully” I said angrily, getting right up close to my mother’s shocked face; she looked petrified “This is my body, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with it and this is my life so I will live it however the fuck I want and do whatever I want. You have no say in anything because I don’t give a fucking shit what you think!” I yelled in her face.

I didn’t flinch or feel any sort of remorse as a single tear streaked her cheek, I simply smiled in accomplishment and walked out and jumped into Brady’s car. Shortly, we got to the party and it was off the chain. Everywhere people were drinking, smoking and doing god knows what. Before I knew it drinks were flowing through my system and I giggled drunkly as Brady grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs with him.

“Where we going?” I smiled.

“You’ll see” he pulled me towards a closed door.

He opened and led me in, smiling triumphantly. The room was smoked out completely, people were popping pills, snorting, smoking all sorts of shit and injecting needles into their skin. “Try something!” Brady encouraged.

Peer pressure and the additive of alcohol overtook my sense of mind. Firstly, I smoked weed and then someone injected me with a needed. My mind was spinning uncontrollably on an intense rollercoaster I couldn’t force to stop. I felt someone’s hand run up my thigh, lingering at the edge of my panties. I blacked out.

I sighed as the memory came to life in virtual images. That night was the first time I had ever done any sort of drugs, that was the beginning of my binge on multiple drugs and the first time that heroin was ever injected through my skin. I didn’t miss the feeling of the liquid penetrating my veins and permanently destroying them because I knew of the mess it created from my obvious first hand experiences.

“Well Sarah, today was really good even though technically I was the one who only talked you did communicate though gestures which is really good but i have to go because its nearly time for lockdown” Max said softly.

By lockdown Max was referring to the time, around when everyone had finished dinner where the patients had to return to their rooms to be given medications if needed and then finally go to sleep or hang out in their rooms regardless if it was what they wanted or not. Usually if anyone even tried to disagree or not go to their room they were put there by force or were given a needle which made them drowsy and from my personal experience it basically made me unable to control my own body so they are then able to quite easily put you in your room with no sort of retaliation.

“M-max” I choked out.

“Y-yes” his voice cracked in disbelief.

“C-can you come b-back tomorrow?” My voice broke in fear and ultimate uncertainty.

“I’d love to” his voice purely surprised and cheerfully replied.