Uncontrollable Changes
My Father
My hands cover my face as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head up to a figure standing behind me. The creature from in front is now gone and behind me is my dad. He looks the same way I did yesterday, covered in the blood of others and scared for his life. I stand to face him and he pulls me in to hug my tight.
"I'm sorry, Lil" he says letting go and looking me in the eyes. "I had to leave before I hurt you" my dad says holding my hands. There are so many questions running through my mind but none leave my mouth. He can see in my eyes that I don't understand.
"I didn't ding any answers. That's why I never came home" my dad said.
"Six years?"
"I'm really sorry."
"How old we're you when it first happened?" I have to ask him.
"Eighteen. I was terrified and so was your grandmother. It happened to her too. She understood."
Now I understand why my dad left. The same thing happened to him and my grandma. If he had known how to stop this, she can't help me now. She's gone and so is my help. My dad has no answers for me so there's no reason for me to stay. If I leave him here, alone, he will go back to his life of nothing.
I head towards the back door and my dad yells, "I'm sorry I can't help. If I find anything I'll come home and tell you. Until then stay safe and try to control it the best you can." I turn back to face him, raise my hand an say "I'll try my best. Stay out of trouble."
As I move to my bike and put my helmet on. Something catches my attention. I hear something rustle the leaves on a bush a few metres away. I step onto my bike and look into the bush. The leaves are brown and mostly dead. I see two large, bright green eyes staring back at me. I stumble backwards off my bike.
I move slowly back to the bush to see what the eyes belong to, but they were gone. I put my hands into the bush and push the leaves apart. There's nothing there. As I pull my hands back my palm is cut on a branch. I pull my hand to my chest and hold it tight. I have nothing to stop the bleeding and nothing to put on it.
I decide to rip off the bottom of my shirt to wrap around my hand. I get on my bike and ride home. By the time I make it home the blood is dry and the cut is closed.
I try to clean the blood off when I get to the bathroom. The black signet I was wearing us ripped off and thrown in the wash. Instead I now have a grey t-shirt with red roses on the front.
"I'm sorry, Lil" he says letting go and looking me in the eyes. "I had to leave before I hurt you" my dad says holding my hands. There are so many questions running through my mind but none leave my mouth. He can see in my eyes that I don't understand.
"I didn't ding any answers. That's why I never came home" my dad said.
"Six years?"
"I'm really sorry."
"How old we're you when it first happened?" I have to ask him.
"Eighteen. I was terrified and so was your grandmother. It happened to her too. She understood."
Now I understand why my dad left. The same thing happened to him and my grandma. If he had known how to stop this, she can't help me now. She's gone and so is my help. My dad has no answers for me so there's no reason for me to stay. If I leave him here, alone, he will go back to his life of nothing.
I head towards the back door and my dad yells, "I'm sorry I can't help. If I find anything I'll come home and tell you. Until then stay safe and try to control it the best you can." I turn back to face him, raise my hand an say "I'll try my best. Stay out of trouble."
As I move to my bike and put my helmet on. Something catches my attention. I hear something rustle the leaves on a bush a few metres away. I step onto my bike and look into the bush. The leaves are brown and mostly dead. I see two large, bright green eyes staring back at me. I stumble backwards off my bike.
I move slowly back to the bush to see what the eyes belong to, but they were gone. I put my hands into the bush and push the leaves apart. There's nothing there. As I pull my hands back my palm is cut on a branch. I pull my hand to my chest and hold it tight. I have nothing to stop the bleeding and nothing to put on it.
I decide to rip off the bottom of my shirt to wrap around my hand. I get on my bike and ride home. By the time I make it home the blood is dry and the cut is closed.
I try to clean the blood off when I get to the bathroom. The black signet I was wearing us ripped off and thrown in the wash. Instead I now have a grey t-shirt with red roses on the front.