ROXANNE {ongoing}

•6•

“Amidst, the obscurity of existence, we all gradually disappear.” -The Lost Boy.

 

A girl, who seems twelve years of age, called out, “father?”

Silence.

She asked again, “father? I’m home.” As she slowly made her way to the living room.

Not a living soul is seen.

Worry slowly made its way to that poor girl’s face.

“Father? Are you not home?” She anxiously called out again.

She has been the first of her class for nine consecutive years, she has been excited to tell this wonderful but not surprising results to her dear father.

He was quite stern and cold, but that’s okay. She thought.

Her father is the only one she had, her mother left both of them for a man, which the girl thought was absolutely stupid.

The father promised the girl that he wouldn’t leave her like her pathetic mother.

So, she naively believed.

Seeing as her father isn’t on the living room, the girl thought that maybe he was sleeping.

But still, for some eerie reason, she wanted to desperately see him now.

The girl hurriedly made her way upstairs, as the sound of her steps creaking on the wooden floor filled the silent house.

As she got upstairs, the girl noticed that her father’s bedroom door is open.

How weird. The girl thought.

Father never leave his bedroom door open, much more if he’s sleeping.

A dark thought appeared on the girl’s mind. No, no, no. Before she forcefully made that kind of thought disappear.

She hesitantly walked her way to her father’s bedroom.

“Fathe-“ The girl momentarily stopped breathing at the scene before her. Her pupils dilated at this gruesome horror.

She saw this kind of scene on a horror movie she watched recently.

This can’t be true, I must be having a nightmare. Yeah, that’s it. The girl denies, and denies, and denies.

But she knows in her heart, that this isn’t a nightmare. She refuses to accept the reality.

A man with a rope around his neck, that became nearly purple, with his skin so pale, was the scene that poor girl saw. He wasn’t breathing.

She started violently shaking, cold sweats formed on her skin. A nightmare, this is a nightmare. The girl desperately convince herself once again.

“Wake me up please, wake me up.” She forcefully shut her eyes and quietly chanted.

She looked up again, looking at her father, who doesn’t seem to know about her misery because his eyes were closed shut, forever closed shut.

Her breathing became ragged, and she collapsed on the floor.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. She kept chanting those words on her head, like a broken doll.

“Let me cry.” She pleaded on a hoarse voice.

But no matter how hard she tried, no tears came out.