Diana had been struggling with her identity and sense of place since she was young, but she had done some digging up on her families whereabouts - and it turned out to not be what she was hoping for. Too deep in this world of torture and murder, she...
Time was ticking slowly. Teasing me. Mocking me. Making sure each heart beat, every tear sank deeply into my thoughts. Just to torment me. Just to make me feel bad...
Dad was in hospital. Mom did all this pain onto him. If he died, I wouldn't forgive her. I wouldn't forgive myself. I looked at the clock. Still 11:35. Nighttime. I should be sleeping, I thought, yet I'm here to support him-support her infidelity. I'm not sure going to school tomorrow. It will just add more stress onto me. If he died, I wouldn't forgive her. I wouldn't forgive him even if he made it. Even if I really wanted to.
It was my fault he came home in that mood. It was my fault for the whole incident. This whole situation. My misunderstanding. My inconvenience. My intentions.
Dad had come back from work and I had waited for him as usual.
His eyes were burning bright with fury. His spirit filled with zany yellow and cyan green and his heart, hard and dark like charcoal. He came home earlier than expected. Never have I seen him that angry. He came in like a fire. But sadly, those burn-out....
There was too much fighting happening between my parents. But what dad said after shocked me.
" Are you seriously cheating on me"
Silence.
After a long, awkward pause and a few subsided tears, my dad spoke. Words of true torment destroyed him more than it could destroy me.
"You are cheating on me with my brother"
My mother nodded, or shook her head in denial. I couldn't see well after that. Her sins worth the worst punishment- pure agony.
" You won't meant to find out like this"
" So I was meant to find out somehow"
The rest was a blur as I jolted upstairs with tears welling in my eyes. I wasn't ready to cry. Not now. Not ever
Then about 30 minutes of screaming in my pillow( make my throat hurt as hell), I heard a loud thump coming from outside. I ran downstairs in the same manner I did when I ran up them.
Dad was on the ground and mom was jiggling him so didn't fall asleep. Something my family taught me to do when someone is a the verge of death. The car was outside and I realized what exactly happened. But I didn't say anything. The ambulance came to our house, two holding a stretcher and the other one was alerting them - checking my father's pulse.
It's been four weeks since he was in a coma. The truth laid on my chest as Aunt Trisha came to visit the hospital. Although she whimpered for a brother and, in between snorted, the was obviously no empathy in her eyes. She looked content. More than that she looked satisfied. As if this was what Dad deserved.
In a single breath I burst into tears and demanded answers. That day. Why it happened. And how could she sleep in such a state.
I was prepared for her answer, but it came as a surprise.
How quickly the world muted. As I ran out of the room, I heard Aunt Trisha say:
"Leave her. She's a teenager. She wouldn't understand. Besides teenagers are resilient. She'll learn to forget-- she'll learn to forgive. It's too late now"
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