Whispers on the Wind
Little Girl
The little girl stared at the man across the table from her wondering why she couldn't have more moments like this. Maybe if she was smarter or if her grades would better he would come around more. After all it had to be her fault. He was too perfect to be to blame. He was her father.
She could remember the last time he had visited laying on her mother's pull out bed with her parents laughing as he tried to steal her mommy. Those were the memories that meant everything to her. Memories like that told her there was hope. They told her that she just had to find out what it was that he liked, the things that she did before those days that would happen more often.
His eyes moved down to his watch and he sighed. She knew that sound, that look. Squirming in her chair, she felt her nerves begin to rise as she waited for the dreadful words that would come to her in only a few moments. She had yet to find how to keep him from leaving. He always did, always apologizing and saying he'd be back, that he'd call.
Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't.
"Time to go baby girl," he said putting on a cheerful smile as he stood up picking up his trash and her own.
Sliding from the chair, she forced herself to smile up at him. A part of her was happy. It meant she would get to go home to her mom. But at the same time, she wanted her dad there too. She didn't know why he never stayed. Maybe she could fix that by being better too.
His hand rested on her shoulder and she felt her heart leap as she looked up at him with a bright smile. She could almost imagine him saying that he loved her. The words didn't come out, but she could imagine for a moment that he did and it made the moment almost perfect.
Rolling over in her bed, Bea opened her eyes and sighed. She really hated dreams sometimes. Some things were better left forgotten. If you forgot than it didn't hurt. If you forgot than you could pretend that everything was okay. At least for a little while.
She could remember the last time he had visited laying on her mother's pull out bed with her parents laughing as he tried to steal her mommy. Those were the memories that meant everything to her. Memories like that told her there was hope. They told her that she just had to find out what it was that he liked, the things that she did before those days that would happen more often.
His eyes moved down to his watch and he sighed. She knew that sound, that look. Squirming in her chair, she felt her nerves begin to rise as she waited for the dreadful words that would come to her in only a few moments. She had yet to find how to keep him from leaving. He always did, always apologizing and saying he'd be back, that he'd call.
Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn't.
"Time to go baby girl," he said putting on a cheerful smile as he stood up picking up his trash and her own.
Sliding from the chair, she forced herself to smile up at him. A part of her was happy. It meant she would get to go home to her mom. But at the same time, she wanted her dad there too. She didn't know why he never stayed. Maybe she could fix that by being better too.
His hand rested on her shoulder and she felt her heart leap as she looked up at him with a bright smile. She could almost imagine him saying that he loved her. The words didn't come out, but she could imagine for a moment that he did and it made the moment almost perfect.
Rolling over in her bed, Bea opened her eyes and sighed. She really hated dreams sometimes. Some things were better left forgotten. If you forgot than it didn't hurt. If you forgot than you could pretend that everything was okay. At least for a little while.