Speak.

VII.

I haven't realized it was already morning, when I saw the light creeping in through the window. It took me a few minutes to recognize my surroundings, and the memory hit me hard: we were in his room.

I looked at my side and there he was: sleeping profoundly like a child. The events of last night came rushing to my head: he asked me to stay the night, we danced, and then I fell asleep on his couch. It was pretty clear he carried me upstairs and put me on his bed and slept beside me.

Without the need of waking him up, I got up of bed and walked to the bathroom. Taking a look in the mirror and saw that my reflection wasn't as worse as I expected. At least my dark circles were a bit clear, but my eyes seemed to have that air of sadness since I came here. It seemed like a month, when it only had been a couple of days. Sighing, I took a shower to get ready to go back home.

Home, the place I thought I belonged. The last events still replayed in my mind over and over. It wasn't so easy to forget. All I wanted was to run and never come back. Leave everything and everyone behind and live in the cabin of my dreams. Yeah, that sounded so great in my weird imagination.

I cried in silence while the water was falling over my body, wishing to wash away my pain, my anxiety, my shame, my guilt...

''It hurts...'', I murmured. ''It hurts''.

I heard steps coming in the bathroom and suddenly I was being hugged. He heard me.

''I'm here, kid'', he said, patting my head, ''Let it out''.

''I don't wanna go to that place! I don't wanna face that man! All I want is to run away and never set a foot there ever again'', I sobbed hiccuping, ''Please take my pain away, Please...''

''Hey hey'', he took my face in his hands,''Allow yourself to feel this pain; let it hit you, you're human, and all this shall pass'', he smiled, "you'll be alright, you'll stand up and keep going. You'll see''.

''You're always there for me'', I said, signaling a towel behind him, he passed it and I out it to cover my body , "I don't know how to thank you''.

''Dont, there's not need'', he said, raising his shoulders, ''you're my...''

He stopped in the middle of the sentence. We both knew what he was about to say. The tension was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Deep inside, I didn't want him to finish what he was about to say.

''I'll make us some breakfast'', he scratched his neck and I noticed how red his face was, not daring to look at me.

I breathed in relief. That was the last thing I needed right now. I put my clothes on with one determined resolution in mind: I would not let my father make me feel less never again.