Peyton Bynog
Written in February 2016
A Typical High School Story…
Death is inevitable. We, as humans are born with this fate. When this fate is fulfilled is unknown though. We are not perfect. We say things we don't mean, do things that are unnecessary, care about things that are irrelevant. When you think about it you could be reading this sentence, pausing for a comma, breathing slowly, breath in, breath out, breath in and nothing. The eagle does not choose a fish based on name. The eagle does not create a personal relationship with the fish. It has one objective, prey. The eagle is not bias, the eagle does not judge, the eagle does not care. All that matters is that the eagle preys upon the fish.
Human nature creates so many distractions to the end result though. The distractions of excuses, emotions and entrepreneurship. Emotion being something which deters the truth or enhances it.
As you read this story I would like you to fully emerge yourself into the main character's position. This story is inspired and dedicated to the Tioga High class of 2016 and 2017. Rest in peace all of those who have fallen. Rest easy all of those who stand.
Where to start? I guess it was the first day of grade school I can remember you and school. We had rehearsed what to do and everything the night before. I remember you crying in the back seat. Face all puffy, tears running down each cheek. You said,
“Daddy, Daddy I don’t want to go to school. Please Daddy. Can’t we just go to the park and play? Please Daddy?”
As I contemplated the thought, you sat there and just stared. The remaining tears rolled down your face. Dripping from your chin, falling into your lap. Snot hanging from your nose before you rubbed it on your sleeve. I could not say no to that face. I shook my head slowly in agreeance. You smiled…you smiled the biggest smile in the world. You giggled and said,
“Thank you thank you thank you Daddy! You’re the best in the world.”
So we went to the park, skipping your first day of grade school.
Time passed and I can remember you coming home one day upset. You were in the 3rd grade when I told you. When you came home it was a Friday. You were crying, frustrated and sad. You were flustered, but about what? You told me that the other kids were talking that day. Talking about their momma’s and daddy’s. You did not know who momma was or where she was. They made fun of you for it. For being confused and unsure about if you even had a momma. You did not know. How could you at such a young age. I could not just sit there and watch you cry like that, so I told you the truth. It was difficult though…
How do you tell a kid news like this? I mean it was not news anymore because it happened on the way to your check-up after you were born. You were apart of the crash in fact. Sitting in the car seat in the back on the passenger side. The truck did not stop at the light. It drove straight thru and hit the front passenger door and front bumper. Causing your mother to be paralyzed throughout her whole body. How do you tell your kid that their mother is still alive and unable to function and live without a machine though? How she is someone that could not move, could not talk, could not hold your hand and squeeze that squeeze of reassurance to know that you are real and you can hold on and know that this..is..mom. She could not love. She could not support you as you grew up. She could not be momma. Somehow I got all that down to simpler terms and told you. I continued and told you that we went daily to the hospital. We would visit her. All she could do was look at the ceiling though. Mouth closed showing no expression. I would weep. Upset with myself. For what reason? I was unsure. Every day turned into every other day. Which then turned into every other day after the next. Then once a week, every other week, once a month until we just forgot her. She died a month before you started school. I was upset with myself for forgetting her though. Not for her passing. Surprisingly you understood. You shook your head and hugged me. It was a warm supportive hug. Something was wrong with it though. I could feel something. It was me. I started to shake while thinking and telling you about your mother. I could feel the shaking. I could feel myself shaking through your body. The shaking of frustration and guilt and hatred. You took that from me though. You comforted me, held me. It was like you understood why I was shaking. Why I was upset. You either knew or you did not care. Were you doing it because you did not mind? Today I’m still unsure. You were loving. Soft. Gentle.
Time flew by extremely fast as you grew up. It was day-to-day until Junior High. Everything in the house changed. “Daddy, Daddy” turned into “Dad leave me alone.” You brought home a different atmosphere. One that stunk of despair and sweaty gym clothes. You were occupied most evenings. You were either on the phone with your friend or you were doing homework. You would call me into the kitchen while you were working and you would ask me,
“Dad how do you do this one?”
I would echo the same answer as if I was talking to an annoying bird perched on a pencil in the cage of binders with white copy paper lining the floor with ink scribbled all over.
“It tells you how right there at the top of the page sweetie.”
Thinking back there was actually a lot of firsts during Junior High. The first locker, first year without recess, first crush, first boyfriend (with parental consent), and that dreaded first menstrual cycle. On a serious note, imagine a single dad living with his one daughter alright? She comes to you, rosy cheeked, a little confused. Still with me? Then out of left field, BAM!!! She hits you with some pretty hefty news. What do you do? I did not know whether I should have thrown-up because it was disgusting or cry. Not because I was happy my little girl was growing up, no. But because I was freaking out. I did not know what to do or anything. Thank God for grandmothers though. I was glad when that conversation and Junior High was over. Then it was time for your last four years.
Time was almost up. It was freshman year, finally. You were in high school. Everything was different. You were growing up to be a mature adult. Most of our conversations were short and professional. Everything about me got short apparently while you were in high school also. I was 5” shorter than you, “Daddy” was shortened down to “Dad” and the five zeros I had saved in my bank account balance became shorter a few zeros.
You were different in high school though. You were not as sweet as that little girl I remember. You were a troublemaker. During junior year I can recall an incident with the police. Earlier in the evening you approached me. You asked about a party, there was alcohol and possibly drugs. I said no. You disagreed stating,
“I’m not like that! I just want to go and have fun! Why do you hate me so much? God, you’re a horrible parent.”
I cannot describe in words how much that hurt me. You stormed off to your room and I did not hear from you for the rest of the evening. It was around 11:20 when the phone rang. He answered,
“Hello? Yes sir I’m Officer Ripley with the Johnson County Sheriff’s Department. It would appear that your daughter was apprehended at a party earlier tonight. She is at the station right now. We need you to come down to the station and pick her up or we can hold her in a cell until the morning.”
I told him I was heading that way. It was an hour drive. Thirty minutes there and thirty back. It was a long thought and discussion of a drive. You were drunk. Passed out in my car and your body disoriented. You woke up once and threw up in my floor board. I was pissed at you. I knew when we got home you would still be out and unable to clean it up, so I did. After that I brought you to bed and put an Aspirin and some water on your bedside table. By the time I was done I only had an hour till work so I did not sleep that night. I was highly upset and disappointed in you, but in the end I still loved and cared about you.
After the incident at the party and you ending up at the sheriff’s office you straightened up pretty well. I was proud of you. Senior year was upon us quickly. You were ready to graduate. You had the jacket, ring, friends, grades, ACT score of 31 etc. I was so proud of you. You were going to go to college and succeed. Be the Valedictorian of your class and make me proud. Two weeks were left until graduation. Finals were next week. Your time as being my little girl was coming to an end.
It was the weekend before finals and you asked me if you could go to a party to “chill out”. I said no. I thought it was a bad idea and that you should have went up to your room and studied . You said whatever and went to your room. I did not think much more of it. I went to my room and I was up all night writing out invitations for your ceremony…
The phone rang. It was 1:43 A.M… It was him again, Officer Ripley. This time was different though. He was soft-spoken this time. He answered,
“Hello? Yes sir this is Officer Ripley with the Johnson County Sheriff’s Office. I’m sorry to inform you but your daughter’s been in an accident.”
I could hear his feelings through the phone. I could actually hear his voice…I could feel the remorse he had for me. It was like he got the short pull of the straws and he was the one holding them. I told him he must have been mistaken because my daughter was in her room studying for finals. He confirmed it was her identity on her person. I started to become concerned. He continued,
“Yes sir, the accident appears to be vehicular. Your daughter seems to be the passenger in a fatal crash.”
A “FATAL” crash?!?! What do you mean she “seems” to be in the again “FATAL” crash? “The accident appears to be vehicular?” Well is it or is it not? I could not believe what he was saying. I asked him this over and over. He just listened. Letting me get out the premeditated frustration. It was quiet. I said,
“Hello?!”
He answered. This time in a more stern-type of voice.
“Yes sir, your daughter appears to have been in crash. She was in a two door sports car with three others. She was in the backseat behind the driver. Everyone in the vehicle appeared to be intoxicated and unsure of the events happening leading up to the accident. The driver was driving at high speed of roughly 105 mph when he hit a set of railroad tracks. The car was then airborne…upon landing the driver lost control of the vehicle. He swerved into a ditch causing the vehicle to flip multiple times at a high speed. The driver and front seat passenger were slung from the vehicle upon the first flip and died upon impact. Your daughter remained conscious as the vehicle continued to flip. She broke her third and fifth vertebrae, had internal bleeding and a concussion. The passenger next to her exited the vehicle with a broken arm only. He called 911 and was unaware that your daughter was still in the vehicle. When we arrived on scene your daughter was gone and declared deceased on site. I’m sorry for your…..”
“Did he say killed? Flipped several times? Why was she in the car? Why didn’t the other boy pull her out? Declared deceased? What? So many questions. What’s going on?” This was my initial thoughts. I did not care what else he said. I would not understand anyway. I was in shock. How? Why? Why did this have to happen to you? Why?! This is cruel. It is unfair. You did not deserve this. Why could not it have been me? Nothing was supposed to happen to you. Why were you not in your room studying? Why? ...Why?
The funeral was sad like most funerals. I was sad, your friends were sad…the whole school heartbroken. Why did this happen? No one could grasp the truth. The denial was at an all-time high. It was like God took his hand and placed it in front of the sun and blocked it from the world. It became cold. We wanted God to move his hand so that we could feel the warmth again. So that we could see its brilliance again. In reality though God had pulled that sun out of orbit. He pulled it away so that we could never see it again. It caused so much disfiguration, so much grief between the planets, people and life. Planets collide in brilliance with each surface collapsing into each other and chunks floating off into disarray. We did not know God did this though. For we were in the dark too long to know if his hand was there anymore or not. While we waited our Earth was collapsing and colliding around us.
I went to graduation still. In your seat was your diploma, cap and gown. They said a lot during the ceremony. There was clapping, whooping, shouting and everything like that. I did not really pay attention until the principal came to the podium and asked for everyone to listen closely. Everyone knew what he was going to talk about. You could see the tears in the senior’s eyes. He said beautiful words about you. I was grateful. I was happy. The words he said made everyone stand and applaud. Not because they were happy but were in agreeance. It was great.
Now I conclude. I am not really good at goodbyes so I guess until next time. I miss you, a lot. I hope your mother is with you watching over. Having a good time. To top it off I am writing this letter for you to read okay. In case you forget, which I know you could not, you are the smartest little girl in the world. My little girl. So I want you to know that I have always and will always love you.
-Love Dad
YOU ARE READING
A Typical High School Story
Short StoryA story told through the eyes of a father as he watches his little girl grow up.