River Rat

You know those nights where you just can't seem to sleep? It's like your brain just won't shut off and you can't stop thinking of every stupid thing you've ever done in your life. All of your regrets and mistakes. You torture yourself with the past until you can't take it anymore.

Tonight was one of those nights for me. I couldn't help but get out of my bed and walk out of my room down the hallway. My feet seemed to have minds of their own as they carried me out of the house and a couple of miles away from the cozy cottage where my dad was still fast asleep.

The walk was short and my body was anticipating the feeling of cool water rushing past, washing away every shadow of pain and resentment. As I reached the waters edge I pulled my tank top over my head and stripped out of my shorts, leaving me in just my underwear.

Then, I plunged into the little lake that was like a second home to me. I let myself relax as I kept myself afloat and pushed my hair back away from my face. This was what I really needed. Just to get my mind off of things, even for a little while.

"I miss you, mom," I said to the sky. I couldn't help it. "I wish I could talk to you. Tell you how I'm feeling."

Dad would never understand. I don't think he'd ever really want to try. I can't blame him. I'd been pushing him away for years. After mom died, I didn't want anymore ties to people. The only thing that I could count on anymore was the cooling effect of the lake and the river that fed into it.

I'd become a river rat. Cold, unwanted, and frowned upon. I eat, I swim, I sleep. Nothing more, nothing less. It was all I knew anymore. All I wanted to know.

All I could ever know.

~

"Breakfast!" my dad shouted gruffly from the kitchen. I sighed, rubbing my eyes and sitting up to get some decent clothes on. After I'd returned from my swim I hadn't bothered putting my clothes back on. My sheets were still damp and smelled of the lake. Just the way I liked them.

I walked through the hallway, not making a sound. I didn't do it on purpose. I'd lost a lot of weight since my mother had died. Eating made me depressed and I only did it when my dad forced me to.

I sat heavily in the chair, not even sparing a glance at my dad. He huffed, making me glance with my eyes without turning my head.

"I heard you leave last night," he said as he sat down across from me. His tone was accusing.

"I went for a swim, dad," I replied coldly. I wasn't some druggie or alcoholic going to parties, and his tone made me think that that's what he thought I was doing last night. He just sighed in response. "What's the big deal?" I asked.

"I'd just like to know where you are," he said quietly, defeated.

"I'm eighteen, dad," I told him, standing up. "Now if you'll excuse me."

I did everything but run from the kitchen. I missed when I used to be daddy's little girl. Now he looked at me as if I was some teenager who rebelled all the time, when all I wanted to do was be alone.

As I exited the house I saw headlights from the distance. It was a red, beat up truck. Nobody traveled down our road, we lived in the middle of nowhere. Then, he was pulling into our driveway, getting out of his truck, and coming toward me.

"Dad?" I called.

I guess we had company.