Daughter of a Heretic

Should I Stay? Or Should I Go?

Shit!

I run over to the burning ball of paper and begin stepping on it, furiously trying to put out the flame. After a few heavy stomps the fire is out, but the paper is burned beyond reach. How the hell did that even happen? Was it suppose to be a party trick? What if it was still in my hands when it caught fire? If this was my mother idea of humor, it was kind of sick.

I try to pick up the paper but regret my decision when I slightly burn my fingers.

Shitttttt.

I blow on the paper, pieces of ash fly off. Once the its temperature is down, I pick it up and try to open it. Heaps of ash fly off and it makes it hard to breathe. The letter is destroyed. The only readable part is "A.K.A. Mom" and "Happy Birth-". I go downstairs to the living room where my father sat watching TV. No, he was mearly looking at the TV, but he wasn't actually watching it.

"I know" he says blankly, still staring at the TV.

But how? The letter was sealed when I got here.

"Just because it was closed, doesn't mean it wasn't opened before you got here. Emily its your choice. If you want to spend the summer in Germany then you can," He turns and faces me,  "but if anything happens, I will be coming to get you."

The anger in his voice frightens me. I have only seen my Dad angry a couple of times, but nothing compared to this. It just radiated off of him like the sun radiates heat.

I stood their for a minute. Waiting. Thinking. If I go on this trip, my whole life will change. Of course it cant make up for all the years shes been gone, but at least i'll get something. That's all I ever wanted. Something. Anything. But in that moment I realize that I do have something.

My hand slowly rises to the necklace my father gave to me. It feels heavier than it did earlier. I slowly run my forefinger on the gem in the center.

"Where did you get this necklace? It isn't new. When you gave it to me, the cushion wasn't in the box. Meaning it had been previously owned. Who did it belong to?"

The statement makes my throat dry, almost itchy. My father turns his head back to the TV and stares blankly.

"Um helloo. Earth to Fath-"

"IT WAS YOUR MOTHERS!"

My eyes widen with shock. He has never yelled at me before, well not as aggressively as he just did. I see the tears begin to form in his eyes.

"She-" his voice cracks. "She threw it at me the night she left. I don't know why, but something always told me to hold on to it. Maybe, just maybe, I thought she would come back." He hold his head in his hands and begins to release his pain. His tears. His sadness." But" he says trying to keep his voice stable, "she never did. She never turned back. No second glance. Nothing."

I have no idea what its like to let go of  the person you love. I've never felt the pain, the heavy heart. The tears, and the suffering. All my life I veered from the path of love. I guess I always had a fear of being abandoned, I thought I was never good enough. But seeing my father breaking down on this couch has shown me the real consequences of misguided love. Love is wicked. Love is sick.

I go and sit with my Father. I gently place my head on his shoulder. I don't say a word, I don't make a sound. I just lay there. Being his rock when he needs an elevation. Being his angel when he's trudging through hell. Being his daughter.

We stay there for about an hour, just enjoying each others comfort. Then he says it.

"Do you want to go?"

Even though I knew we would have to address it eventually, the question takes me by surprise.

"I-I do...but-"

"Then your going. Pointblank."

He then gets up and heads to his room upstairs. No other words. Wow. After all this time i'm going to see her. I wonder what she looks like. I've only seen outdated pictures, but I have to admit i'm curious.

Knowing what I would be doing during the summer caused the rest of the school year to pass by me like a breeze. Before I knew it, it was June 10th, and I was boarding my flight to Germany. Dad waved at me from the other side of the gate before disappearing behind giant swarms of travelers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please remember no smoking is allowed on the plane, and if any assistance is needed you can ask our lovely flight attendants. Buckle up, we will reach Berlin in about 10 hours and 30 minutes."

A smile appeared on my face as I buckled my seat belt, and the plane began to move. Then I was off. Off to Berlin. Off to my mother.