What Happens When The Fearless Cry?

The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell

***Xana's P.O.V***

I sat on my bed, my knees up to my chin. I didn't even have the energy to cry, really. Seeing my dad like this tore me apart. If he became like my mom there was no place else I could go. I couldn't go to Rebecca, we had stopped talking. It wasn't a falling out or anything, we just drifted apart. I was utterly alone. I couldn't trust anyone, not even my family. It's not like I had one anyways. The closest thing I had was Ella and Aloise, and they were gone for good.

"Fuck," I said aloud.

I sat and commiserated on my life for another hour or so, then finally worked up the courage to leave my room. I quietly walked down the stairs, only to find my dad seated at the kitchen table...face down.

"Dad? Y'okay?" I asked, poking his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine, honey," He responded, cracking his neck.

"Alright...I'm really sorry for what I said. It's just hard," I said, wringing my hands.

"It's ok, I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I won't ever be like your mother," He said.

"I know, dad," I responded, wrapping my arms around him.

He grabbed tightly around my neck and squeezed me. I never wanted our embrace to end.

"Have you talked to Andy?" I asked.

"No, not yet," He replied, pulling away.

"I need to apologize to him, it wasn't his fault," I said.

"He was really hurt, Xana. But I understand that you were upset," My dad replied.

"We were so close to having Ella and Aloise back...I was just so angry," I admitted.

"If anyone, blame me. It was I who broke it off with Ella," He said.

"No. I'm done blaming people," I said.

"That's good. That's really good, Xana," He said with a light smile.

I grinned at him half-heartedly. I was nervous to talk to Andy, I hated apologies.

"C-can we do it tomorrow? Like...can I talk to him tomorrow?" I asked nervously.

"Of course, I'll call him later tonight," My dad said with a smile.

I secretly dreaded talking to Andy; what would I say? I was terrible at making people feel better.

"Xana...I'd like to talk to you about something else," My dad said, his smile quickly fading.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Your eating disorder...ever since things started going haywire you haven't seen the therapist. You need to go back," He said.

"Dad I don't need to, I'm fine," I lied, I hadn't eaten that entire day.

"No, Xana, you're not fine," He responded.

"We have more important things to worry about," I offered.

"Nothing is more important to me than you," He said, looking hurt.

"Dad I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that it can wait until we get things straightened out," I explained.

"No, we can't. Tomorrow I'm calling the counselor and making another appointment. I'm not going to stop helping," He said.

I started to say something then stopped quickly. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him off of my case. Sure, I knew the risks, but I was willing to take them. At the time, I was a stubborn teenager who thought I knew everything. I didn't realize how lucky I was to have at least one parent who cared about me.

"Ok...thank you, dad,"

"Anything for you, Xana," He responded.

Tears stood in my eyes. I became very emotional; no one had ever wanted to help me so badly. And even after all of the shit I had put him through, my dad would climb the highest mountains to help and care for me.