The Death of this Account

A Letter to Her Dad

Dear Dad,

You can drop the fucking act. The only thing you care about is my mother. Who, in case you didn't know, hates your guts. You've become such a bad person over the years. You only convince yourself of what you want. Remember when mom said she wanted a divorce? And you said, "No, you don't." Remember on New Years I asked you if you could open the fridge for me as both of my hands were being used to carry 15 pound pot? Mom was in the living room telling a story and you said,"Hold on." And you never came back. Later, when you left to go purchase beer, mom complained about you so much and all our guests laughed about it. When we all told you, you said she was kidding. If she's kidding, why does she continuously yell at you? You don't care what I think. I've told you many things and you did what you wanted. Whether or not it was major, you're still a bad person. You cannot cry for me. You cannot say you are so sad by my death, you drunk fat pig. There have been some times when you took me to the park. Only because mom was mad and you wanted to be on good terms with her, right?

Hope to never see you again,
Daisy

I feel the need to say this: her dad wasn't all bad. He just cared more about what the adults thought then his own kid. Okay, so maybe he was slightly bad. But, I don't think he really cares.

After Daisy's suicide, her dad still drank one to two bottles a day of beer. Every now and then, having none. But his habits still have not changed and they probably won't.