Carry On

"She needs to take one every morning and one every night. She needs to have eaten first. She might have some side effects. If any of them become severe you can take her to the hospital or call me for advice," Stephanie said, handing Dad a paper for a prescription.

"And what will these do for her exactly?" Dad asked, "I'm not going to give her anything she doesn't need," He stated.

"Wether she needs it or not is entirely up to you, Brian. But the pills will keep her calm and will lower her psychosis. She won't have as many thoughts or images," She explained.

"Okay," Dad sighed.

"Come back same time next week for a check up. If you need anything before then you can always call," She stated and Dad nodded.

"Thank you," He said softly and she retrieved back to her office. He turned to me, a sad look in his eyes. He walked forward and pulled me into a hug, "Let's go home," He whispered.

"Please."

When we got in the car we didn't head home. Dad drove us straight to the nearest pharmacy to get my persription filled. He parked the car at a CVS Pharmacy before we both got out. We said nothing to each other as we walked into the store, heading straight to the back counter. No one was there but a younger looking man in a white coat, "Can I help you?" The man asked as we neared the counter.

"Yeah, I need to get this prescription filled for my daughter," Dad said and handed over the piece of paper with Stephanie's handwriting on it.

"Oh," He said, taking note of what he needed before turning around. He was gone for a few moments before he returned, a bottle in his hand, "You just need to sign some paperwork," He said, handing a clipboard over to Dad. He took it, and began to scribble our names.

As he did so I looked up to see the man staring at me. He was looking at me like I was someone who needed to be sorry for. Like I shouldn't be here, "Do you need to fucking stare at her like that?" Dad snapped, bringing the man out of his focus on me. He looked to Dad, horrified, "She's not some circus freak. Do it again and I'll punch your lights out," Dad growled before tossing the clipboard onto the counter.

The man shakily rang up the total for my pills and Dad paid with a card. He kept his eyes down the entire time and Dad's eyes didn't leave him for a second, "Let's go," Dad said when the receipt was in his hand, and he pushed me softly towards the door.

When we got in the car he sighed and gave me the bag to hold. I put it in my lap before we took off again. We once again drove in silence. I wasn't sure if it was Dad trying to be sincere, or he was so mad he couldn't talk without yelling.

I felt my stomach drop at the thought of Dad being angry again. I could only imagine what Stephanie had told him after our talk, and no doubt Dad would be upset by that.

By the time we got home it was the evening, "I'm gonna make dinner," Dad said as soon as we were inside, "What do you want?"

I shrugged, "I don't care. Just not spaghetti," I reminded him for the thousandth time.

He turned to me, "I know," He said softly and I walked away.

I just wanted to be alone with what little peace I had before Dad lost his cool. I knew it was bound to happen. He couldn't keep his feelings in forever, and I didn't really want to be around when it happened. I headed upstairs to my room. The nauseating smell of bleach was gone. After my room was cleaned the windows were opened to get the smell out. It was back to normal. My desk was clean again, all of the papers in order. My x-acto knife and blades were missing. It's not like I needed them, though. Next time I try to kill myself, it will be done way more efficiently than that.

I sighed and fell back into my bed, looking over at the clean desk. I had a week's worth of work to makeup. Grades were due in a few days and I didn't have the straight A's Dad was expecting. On top of that, I have two weeks to submit my applications for college. That includes all of the essays I have to write and all of the interviews I'll need to make. I groaned, rolling over and pushing a pillow to my face. I let out a long muffled scream before relaxing, exhausted. I pulled my face away from the pillow and huffed. I didn't know what I was going to do, but it was making me panic already.

I tried to fall asleep, but couldn't with all of the thoughts running through my head. Giving up, I got up and headed back down the stairs. I could smell something cooking in the kitchen and I figured it was nearly time for dinner anyways.

On the stove was a pot of macaroni and cheese that Dad was stirring. I hopped onto the counter, "It's almost done," He said.

"Okay," I muttered.

He turned the stove off and served us both portions before taking both bowls to the table. He once again opted to eat dinner with me instead of going down to the studio, and I wasn't sure what that meant, "I think we need to have a talk."

I put my fork down, "What ever Stephanie told you, don't be mad at me. Just please don't yell at me," I muttered, too exhausted to speak up.

"Liza," He said firmly.

"I lied. I lied to her, okay? Can we just forget everything?" I asked and he stared at me, eyes dark and mysterious. He too set his fork down and sighed.

"Elizabeth," He stated and I trailed my eyes up to meet his, "I'm not mad."

Liar.
"You're not?" I asked.

"No, Sweetie, I'm not," He said softly.

Don't believe him.
I groaned, "But..."

"Liza, what ever you may think... I'm not mad at you. I just want us to be okay." He sighed, "I know you're stressed out and you're still in shock from what happened with Mom but I'm here for you."

He was never there, remember?
"Yeah," I breathed shakily.

We were silent, and I could tell Dad was searching for something to say. He was afraid to say the wrong thing, like at the concert, and I would run off and do something drastic.

"Did you see Mom?" I asked softly.

"Yeah," He said, just above a whisper.

"How is she?" I asked and he sighed.

"Busy..." He trailed off, "I'm not going to bull-shit you, Liza. You're old enough to know that your mother and I aren't on good terms, and I don't think we ever will be," He said and I nodded.

I understood. Mom left Dad and he was pissed. Dad ignored Mom and she was pissed. There wouldn't be enough apologies in the world that could change that fact.

"Your Mom and I argued," He confessed, "She blames me for what happened..." He trailed off, "And I blame me too. But you have to understand that I have a right to point a finger at her as well," He continued, "You know I'm against you flying across the country to go see her. You know how I feel about it, but Jesus," He breathed, "You're going to be an adult next week, Liza. You're not my little girl anymore and I can't stop you."

"What did you tell her?" I asked.

He sighed, "The decision is up to you. And it will always be up to you. If you want to go see her, then I won't stop you. Just know that you can come home whenever you want, and I'll be here waiting," He said and I nodded.

"Thanks," I said and he sighed.

"So," He spooned another mouthful into his mouth, "You haven't told me what you want for your birthday."

I shrugged, "What could I possibly want?"

"Well, I had been thinking for a while," He said, "After you go with your Mom, if you do go, I was going to take time off. I wanted to take a trip. You've never left the country before, or the state for that matter. I thought it would be nice for you to pick a place and we could go."

"I don't know where I would want to go," I said.

"You have time to think about it."

"Yeah."

The rest of the night consisted of us remaining silent. Dad didn't even say anything when we finished dinner. He just held out his hand, a single blue pill in his palm. Something in his eyes told me not to fight him. He didn't have the energy to fight me anymore. I reached out and grabbed it, placing it in my mouth before drowning it with water. Tasteless.

It would take more than a pill to fix me.