Trauma ➸ Audrey Jensen [1]

19 ➸ haunting

nineteen ; haunting

♕

HARLEY

"Miss, who are you here for again?" The lady at the desk asked, to which I only stared at her with a sad look. "Oh, um, I'm sorry. I'm... I'm here to see Steven Blaire," I told the woman hesitantly.

She lazily picked up the phone, pressing a single number before talking to someone on the other line. "Bring Steven Blaire, he's got a visitor." She paused, listening. "No, it's not a joke this time." They escorted me into the visitation room, to which I sat and waited for him to arrive.

It wasn't long before he came walking in, his face softening when he saw my face for the first time in so many years. He still knew what I looked like. I picked up the phone, waiting for him to do the same.

He pressed his hand up against the glass separating us as he smiled. "Hello, dad," I greeted cautiously. I hadn't spoken to him since that night. That night that I watched him murder my mother in cold blood, and now here I am, visiting him in prison. I got a haunting feeling as soon as he stepped in the small area.

"Harleen... I don't have words. I've written you and your family so many letters about how truly sorry I am. I lost control," he began to cry, wiping his tears onto his orange uniform. I tried to stay strong. Crying would only make me even more weak than I felt. I was so angry, and I felt so stupid.

I reached into my purse, bringing out the tapes and placing them onto the metal table. "Why the hell didn't you or Mom tell me about what they did to me?" I said, this time I truly started tearing up. How could he just live his life hiding this. It wasn't hidden anymore.

"So you're not here to see me?" He mumbled, looking anguished. "Why are you so surprised? You killed my fucking mother in front of my eyes!" I yelled, standing up. "Now you've got the fucking nerve to say sorry? Well sorry doesn't fix what you've done. It will never fix what you've done."

"Sweetie, please listen to me. I love you with all my heart. I was in such a dark place. I wasn't right in the head there was something wrong with me but I've been on meds for all these years and I —I'm — I'm ready to be here, for you. I'm ready to be the father you need me to be."

"Oh, what, you're gonna do that from behind bars?"

"Please. I know, it's bad... but I love you. You're my world. A man needs his daughter. Please, forgive me."

"I won't be doing anything until I get answers. Answers as to why I was nearly drowned and suffocated when I was a baby. I need to know."

He sighed, looking down at the metal table and then back up at me. "I... I'm afraid I can't explain that. They just took you, and returned you. You weren't the same. Your whole life as I watched you grow up, you were afraid of water. So scared you'd burst into tears when the faucet started running. You wouldn't shower for months."

I scoffed, angry at myself for visiting my dead beat father only to find out that he has no clue about why they did this to me. Now I had to deal with his pleads. "Ed told me to never speak with you again—"

"Ed is a fucking bastard! Don't let him destroy us."

"Him? You destroyed us! You destroyed us when you murdered my mother. I loved her so much... and now she's six feet under."