THE DREAM CATCHER

9.

I've been trying to fall asleep for the last three hours but I fail miserably. I can't help fighting the thought that he reminds me of someone I've been really close with. And fighting the image of his face. Jesus, how can one be so flawless. I toss and turn on my bed incapable of closing my eyes for more than a minute before his stupid smile displays in front of my face. And for some terrible, terrifying reason I don't dislike it. I don't remember feeling tempted by anyone ever in my life. I don't remember anyone to flirt with me, at least not me responding to the attempts. I don't remember feeling of blushing, I don't remember the feeling that I find someone attrac...
No. Stop it. Enough of this bullshit. This must be caused by the inability of feeling for such a long time. There's no other explanation. I must be just hungry of experiencing everything as soon as I can. I have to come to my senses. I can't let myself be driven away so fast. I've just started developing my mind. I can't already pack it all with a god damn, handsome, respectful, guy. I feel like a teenage girl in a very poorly written romance book. And I hate it. I hate that I don't hate it. I hate that he takes my brain away from much more important things. Like Noah. Life grief, loss, loneliness. Like the suffocating feeling of infirmity. Like fear from unknown. I hear a muffed sound of a body stumbling against the wall and then falling onto the floor with a grunt. Father's home. I fight desperately not to care but the new version of me wins the battle. I stagger on my feet and tiptoe to the door. As I peek out from behind them I can see my own father laying face down on the floor, clothes dripping wet from the rain, too drunk to stand up. I'm having troubles trying to remember a single time he was sober. This is the version of him I know. This is the man I know. The one laying face-first on the floor. I took after my mother my every feature. Except eyes. Eyes are his. We have the exact same fields of grass trapped in our eyes. Maybe that's why I find it hard to look at him in this very moment. I don't want to look into my own eyes. I don't want to see my future. I don't want to end up like him. Consumed by thoughts. And the awareness that this is what's likely going to happen me kills me. His coughing brings me back to reality. He's choking. I don't waste my time, I'm kneeling beside him in a matter of seconds turning him to the side. Only then, when I manage to drag his heavy body up he opens his eyes to look at me. Shiver climbs up my spine.
,,Gabriel..." I say hesitantly. I've never called him dad, not even a father. Ever since I remember I've been calling him by his name, because Noah did. And it stayed with me until this day. But for some reason, it bothers me now. 
,,Would you bring me some water sunshine?" He asks smiling sadly at me. I flinch at the nickname he gifts me with every time I see him. That is not very often.
On a shaky legs I approach the kitchen counter and spill half of the glass of water as I stumble over my own feet when I walk back to him.
,,Here." I say as I push the glass against his dried mouth and make him drink. He swallows the water greedily like he hasn't been drinking in days. I doubt he hasn't. The amount of alcohol he devours everyday is huge. I'm surprised he isn't dead by now.
,,Thank you sunshine." He says as I put the glass on the floor. He somehow manages to sit up and stares at my frowned with worry and discomfort face. ,,How are you feeling?"
My blood freezes. He never asked me that question before. Because he never had to. Because I never felt. No matter how hard I would fight to hide behind the mask of indifference he'll always manage to see through it. He's my father after all.
,,Tired." I say trying desperately to avoid his question.
He scans my face, looking for any other flashes of emotions. And I know he sees them. Because he smiles. My father never smiles. Never.
,,You're back sunshine." He almost burst out into tears. He whispers, too afraid to scare me. ,,I knew I would get my daughter back."
,,What do you mean?" I ask, voice quiet from terror.
,,This." He says pointing at my trembling body. ,,You feel."
That's it. That's enough to make me break down crying. To make me throw my body into his. To make me allow him to hold me in his arms. To make me feel longing for the father I never had.
,,I don't know what's going on dad." I say and I freeze as I spell those forbidden words. I can feel his body tensing at my words. This particular word.
,,You'll figure it out soon." He says as he pulls me away to face me. My tears splattered his already wet from the rain shirt. ,,I promise you, you will." And then he smiles. The saddest smile known to a human.
I don't say a word before staggering to my feet, backing to my bedroom and burying my face in the pillows. They're going to be given a solid bath of tears tonight.