Dead Man Walking

New Life, Old Life

It was suffocating, sitting in my father's car. I don't know why, but the smell of the leather made me feel sick. I missed the old car, that was most likely laying in a junk yard. The car must have been totaled. I had been a few days since I found out about my mother. The doctors had wanted me to stay in the hospital for a few days in case my condition worsened. I was told that I would be allowed to go home. At first, I thought that I was going home. To the house in that nice community by my school. To the house with the open space and nicely lit rooms.

I was wrong. There was nobody to go home to now.

So, I'm in my father's car on his way to his apartment. The leather in his car upsetting my stomach. I felt like crying again, but I fought the tears back and looked out the window. The more and more I thought about being in a car, the more and more paranoid I got. Every car seemed to close for my liking, and every red light had me gripping the seat for my life. I glanced over to my father, his concentration was on the road. I noticed the stiffness in his spine and his hands that were white at the knuckles from gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

He was uncomfortable, too. Good.

I looked away, leaning my head against the window.

" Are you alright?" My Father asked, I glanced at him and nodded my head.

" Yeah, peachy." I muttered, leaning my head back against the window.

" Look, I'm going to try and be a better father to you." He started, " to try to make up for all the years I wasn't there."

" Just don't try." I said, " you wouldn't be here if Mom wasn't dead." I glared at him, a frown on my face. Father shook his head, a hurt look on his face. I wanted to slap that look off his face. He has no right. He left us, and it's not fair that he gets to feel sad about that when he wouldn't have even thought twice about us if he didn't get that damned call. I let out an angry huff out of my nose, staring ahead of me at the road. I watched the yellow guide lines move past the car as my eyes started to sting again.

I've never felt this lost in my life ever. What I wouldn't give to be able to see my mother, alive and well.

It was a few minutes until we finally got to my father's apartment building. I got out of the car, looking over at Dad as he got out of the driver's seat. He closed the car door, turning to me.

" You can go inside and check the place out." He said, tossing me the keys. " It's room B12."

I looked down at the cold keys resting in my palm, closing my hand around them. I headed into the building, guessing that his apartment was upstairs. The hallway was small and confining. I looked over at the doors, reading them carefully.

B10. B11. B12.

I stopped, jamming the key into the lock with a little more force then necessary. I pushed the door open and looked around, my eyes taking in the fairly clean living area. I walked inside, looking around at the unfamiliar furniture and room. The walls were plain, no pictures or paintings. There was a decently sized television in the corner, it wasn't too big. Which was nice, seeing as I didn't like the larger ones. There was a nice kitchen nook in the left side of the room, and the entryway to a bedroom across the room from me. I walked towards it before stopping and turning towards the living room and sat down.

A few minutes passed until my father walked into the room, holding my bag of stuff that he had picked up a couple of days ago. I wanted to comment again on how I considered it to be braking and entering, even if he had bought the house in the first place. But, I just didn't have the energy to fight with him again. He placed the bag down on the floor beside the couch and sat down beside me.

" Miranda, please, talk to me." He said, looking into my face, " I'm really trying here."

" I know you are." I said, nodding my head. " But, if you wanted to play Daddy, you should have stepped up to the plate years ago."

He stood abruptly, turning to me. " You think I didn't want to?" He retorted back, " Don't act like you understand why I left, because you don't."

" Then make me understand." I said, my voice shaking.

" I can't." He said, looking at me hard. " I can't explain it to you, you have to understand that. But that doesn't mean that I don't love you."

" Right, and I'm supposed to believe that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

" If I don't love you, then explain to me why I dropped everything I was doing to head to the hospital at two in the morning." He asked, I just shook my head, looking away from him. There was an awkward silence between the two of us after this. I was being overly dramatic, I know. He's trying, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm kinda grateful for that. I miss Mom, so much. And I just wish I could rewind the last few days, maybe take a bus back home from my friend's house. Save her from driving.

And the truck.

I sniffle unwillingly, closing my eyes again. " I'm a mess." I mutter, letting out a strangled sigh.

" I'm sorry." He says suddenly, I turn to look at him. He looks at me, " I shouldn't have got angry with you. You just went through this tragedy, and I'm not helping by picking a fight with you. I'm sorry."

I just nod my head, " It's...it's alright." I mutter, looking down at the carpetted floor. Father stands, running a hand through his hair.

" You must be tired." He says, " you can take my bed for tonight if you want."

I look up at him, " I can take the couch." I say, not really liking the thought of sleeping in his bed. He looks down at me, his brown eyes show a bit of uncertainty.

" Are you sure?" He asks, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

" Yes, I am." I said, he just nods. He looks almost lost, and I kinda feel bad for him. Not that I want to, but I guess this has been a huge week for the both of us.

" Okay." He says, " I'm going to take a nap, feel free to use the television as you please." He says before turning and walking into his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. I stay sitting on the couch, listening to the soft ticking of the clock from the kitchen. It sounded quite loud, actually. I frown, picking out the only remote on the table and turned on the television, flipping the channels before landing on a random channel. It was a soap, naturally. They were the only freaking shows on during the day besides talk shows. I lay down, kicking off my shoes and listened as some woman ranted on about her boyfriend's recent rendezvous with another woman.

I watched the show for a few minutes before I drifted off into a much needed sleep.

--

I awoke with a jolt, my breath coming out in gasps. I looked around the room, the light from the TV casting a glow around the area. I glanced out the window to see the darkened sky. I sat there, looking out the window while my breaths slowed. I pulled myself up off the couch, stretching before walking towards my father's room. I knocked on the door, waiting for an answer. I turned the door knob, peeking into the dark room.

" Dad?" I ask, looking around the room. His bed is messed, the blankets laying on one side. But he wasn't in the room. I closed the door, walking into the kitchen and saw a note on the table.

Mi,

Gone out to pick up dinner. Be back later. Don't open the door for anyone.

Dad.

I raised an eyebrow, placing the note back down on the table and walking back towards the living area. I paused, looking towards the door. I wonder what he meant by not opening the door for anyone. I shook my head.

He's over protective.