Daddy, please.

Comfort

I pause, playing with my fingers as I think over how I should go about this.

"You know how I've been working here for sometime now?" She nods. I continue. "Well that's because I needed to make the money to support my father and I. After my mom left, he became a raging alcoholic. All he could ever talk about was how it was my fault she left, and because he truly believed that was the truth, he beat me. The abuse even went as far as being sexual, but there was nothing I could do about it. If I tried to fight back he would just knock me out to finish his business." I shuddered at the thought and stole a quick look at Martha. Her eyes were watering and her bottom lip was trembling as she fought to keep the tears at bay. I reached across the counter and held her hand in mine.

"I couldn't tell anyone, because really, who would believe me? They'd just think I was the basket case with no mom and that was the reason she left. I'd scream and cry in hopes that finally, finally, someone would hear me and Come to my rescue, but no ever did." At this point I couldn't hold my own tears back as the despair that Id felt in those moments crept up on me.

"Id accepted that this was my fate a long time ago, but it didn't make it any easier. And it certainly didn't help with the little faith I held within myself. I knew my life would never hold anything else for me, but things changed the day those guys came in. That guy left his number on a napkin and nothing has been the same ever since.

"After I left like you told me to, I called him and we went to the carnival by the beach. At the end he drove me home and I knew it was a bad idea. My father was furious that I was with a man other than himself. He beat me, but somehow I managed to get away and I ran a few blocks away to the park where I then stopped and called Alex. That's his name, by the way." I told her with a sad smile  as images from the night before flickered in my memory.

"He got there as fast as he could and knocked out my father because he chased after me and threw me to the ground." I saw Martha cringe. It made me relieved that I hadn't told her sooner. I don't think she could have handled it. "Alex took me back to his place and I've been staying there ever since."

"Oh, Hally. Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you." She told me in a small, sad voice while coming around the counter to pull me into another hug.

"It was my problem to deal with. I didn't want to drag anyone down with me. I may have hated my father, but I hated myself even more." I paused. "I thought I deserved it."

"You don't deserve it. You never did." She gave my shoulders a squeeze and I wished that at the time of the beatings, I'd thought the same way she did.

"There's more." I mumbled into her shoulder, unsure if I was ready to tell someone else what was currently eating me alive.

"I'm listening." She told me, and I knew that she was. I knew I could always count on her to listen to me. I took a deep breath to ready myself as much as possible before I went on.

"On October 1st, I got a call. It was from my father, and it caught me so off guard because he was the last person I expected to call me. I assumed he was drunk, and it turns out that assumption was correct. Basically, what he told me is that mom didn't leave." I stopped, bracing myself for the pain that I knew was to come with my next words.

"He sent her away." I began pacing in front of the counter. "After all those years of hating myself, of waiting for death to finally take me because I thought I was the reason she left, I found out he. Sent. Her. Away." I tangled my fingers in my hair and groaned in frustration. "I thought I was the reason. I thought she didn't love me, but in reality she was mentally unstable  and needed to be sent away. She's schizophrenic. SHES BASICALLY FUCKING MENTALLY INSANE. and I've been here for the past however many years, wondering where she is and feeling sorry for myself when she's all alone and struggling everyday. Yet still, all I can think about is what I possibly could've done to deserve this. I mean, it must've been something pretty bad because we all know that my life is an increasingly growing shit show.

"And that's not even all. I got another call the other day to tell me the police found my father, dead, in our bathtub and it makes me wonder when this will end. What did I do to deserve such a fucked up life and how do I send it back? Because honestly I don't want it anymore but no matter how hard I try to escape, reality always manages to catch up with me." At this point I'm breathing heavily and I can feel a panic attack coming on but there's still more to be said.

"I hated myself for so long. At times, I still do, and I've suffered through so much, but I still can't catch a fucking break. It's like I'm not meant to be happy or something because that's what it seems like. Every time I start to relax and feel at ease another bomb is dropped and I'm left right back where I started. It's too much. It's too fucking much   I have no future ahead of me because I didn't even finish high school & my past certainly isn't any better." I finished and when I looked at Martha she was bawling her bright eyes out and I felt terrible for making her cry.

Yet again I was pulled into her embrace as she sobbed into my shoulder and I rubbed her back. I'm such a shitty person. I just had to go and make her cry, didn't I?

"Your mom, s-she loved you so much. Don't you ever doubt that. She would've never wanted any of this for you, and I know that if she could, she'd tell you to be strong; to be your own knight in shining armour. It's hard right now but it will get better, and I'm here for you anytime you need me." She told me in her motherly tone and for just those few moments, I felt okay.

I imagined my mom standing in front of me with her black hair in a messy bun and the slightest bit of mascara coating her eyelashes. She'd look down at me with her lively blue eyes and the brightest, most encouraging smile on her face and tell me she knew I would be okay.

I missed her so much. I missed the comfort of knowing she was around, and the safety she always provided me with. I missed the way her laugh filled up the room and her way of seeing good in everyone and everything. My mom was a genuine and loving person. She gave so much and never asked for anything in return.

You never would've known she was battling a mental illness.

"Thank you, I really needed that." I told Martha honestly as I pulled away and gave her a Sad, but grateful smile.

"No problem, love. You know I'll always be here if you need me." She smiled back at me and for the time being, my problems were nonexistent.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I was hoping I could start working again today?" I asked with a hopeful smile.

"Of course! This place hasn't been the same without you." She told me and I swear my heart grew a few sizes bigger.

"I haven't been the same without this place either."