The Final Goodbye

The night seemed like it could last forever. Funny, I think, how that happens. Such wonderful times zoom by, and the dreaded last forever. I lay in bed, the breeze from the air conditioner hitting me hard, seeming as though it wanted me to stay up all night, wanting me to be conscious of every little sound, every little movement of the chaos downstairs. Mama and Daddy were in yet, another fight, but this one was worse than the others. Sadly and strangely, I wouldn’t be too surprised if Daddy were to leave tonight. As Mommy says he’s been going out to bars, and doing God-knows-what the past month and a half and frankly she was getting sick of it. This, she told me two nights earlier, running her soft hands through my red thick hair. Suddenly, its quiet downstairs, and I’ve become extremely aware of the crickets chirping outside my window. There’s a knock on my door. I close my eyes quickly, pretending like I’m asleep, so it wouldn’t seem too suspicious to whoever it was at the door. It slowly creeks open, and I look in the slits of my eyes to Daddy, looking tired and worn-down, like he needed a nap. He makes his way to my bed, creaking lightly every step on the old floorboards of my room.

“Baby doll…” he says, his voice raspy and low. I open my eyes. “I’m leaving tonight.” He finishes. The moonlight from out my window, makes his eyes glisten, as if he’s about to cry. Yet, maybe it’s just real tears fighting there way out. “I love you, darling.” He says. I sit up, resting on my elbows.

“Where you going to, daddy?” I ask. My heart seems to be sinking lower and lower with every second of silence, as I prey he answers quickly.

“I don’t know.” He finally says, looking outside the window. With one more pat on the head, Daddy slowly rises, and walks out of the room. And out of my life, forever.