Blackout

8) Bereavement

SIARA LYNN DUPONT

"Siara," My mother's voice was calm and soothing. "Call your father over for me."

"But Mommy," I whined, tugging at the pocket of her jeans. "Why can't Mason do it?"

"Because I asked you to do it," She said simply, pushing my hands away. "Don't make me repeat myself."

With a groan, I detached myself from her leg and strutted towards the stairs, climbing up as fast as I could. I made it to the top within seconds, running towards my father's office. I opened the door, ran to him, and then entangled him into a hug. I always loved hugging him. He reminded me of home. "Daddy!"

"Siara, baby," My father wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me tightly. "What are you doing up here?"

I grinned wildly and rested both my hands on each shoulder. "Mommy needs you."

"What does she want?" He said. I didn't notice how he tensed at the mention of her.

"I don't know," I shrugged and then began playing with his hair. "Your hair is so messy!"

"Because you're messing it up, silly," My father said in a light tone, picking me up. "C'mon, let's go see what she wants." I squealed at his abrupt action and wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing freely. I loved it when he went down the stairs with me. It kind of felt like a rollercoaster ride with all the bumps even though I've never been on one. When we finally got to the bottom, I felt really disappointed when he set me down. I followed him to my mother who had her arms crossed. Was she angry?

"Siara," My mother snapped. "Go to your room."

I frowned, tears already forming. "But I behaved today!"

"I don't care," She said, her tone still hard. "Your father and I need to have a chat."

"But—" I was going to continue arguing with her, but then my father kneeled down to my height and gently grabbed my shoulders. I was already crying. "Daddy? Why am I in trouble?"

He wiped my tears away with one hand, pursing his lips into a thin line. "You're not in trouble, Siara. We just need to talk about something." He turned and stared at my mother for a moment, and then returned his gaze to me, his eyes immediately softening.

"But why do I have to go to my room?" I asked him, sniffing. "It's so boring in there."

"How about this," He proposed, gently squeezing my cheek. "Go to my room. You can watch TV until we're done talking." I liked the sound of that. My mother and father almost never let me watch TV because of how expensive it was. There was almost no reception in Anchorage and I knew that if you really wanted reception you had to pay a lot of money.

I nodded eagerly and wiped my eyes before kissing his cheek, running up the stairs again. I faintly heard them talking, but I paid no mind to it.

I jumped on their bed and reached for the remote, turning on the TV; only, the moment it turned on, the screen was filled with static. It wasn't working. I groaned and slid off of their bed, deciding to go downstairs to tell them, but once I got down, I heard their shouts.

"You had no right," My mother snarled, pointing a sharp finger at my father.

"I had every right," My father spat. I dared to peak and almost screamed when I saw her push him harshly. His stance wavered and he almost fell to the ground, but he quickly regained his balance and marched towards her, one hand intertwining itself within her hair. "I wouldn't have done it if you weren't such a fucking slut." I never heard him talk like that before. He tightened his grasp and tugged his hand further back, exposing her neck and protruding veins.