Sunflower

23 - Rivers

Micah

(trigger warning)

"Your father is here"

Why? Why is he here?

I feel a river of tears rush to my eyes as my head begins to spin. I'm chained to the floor, chained to this world that won't stop spinning. I was once frozen in time, but now I won't stop moving. I can't stop moving. My heart pounds on my chest, screaming to be set free from the prison that keeps it trapped. Air leaves me, and each breath I take becomes shorter and shorter by the second.

The intoxicating smell of alcohol pours into my nostrils. I can't tell if it's real or not, but it still sends icy chills gliding down my back. My fingers start to shake, and I feel I'm spinning completely out of control.

"Micah," Mom says, placing her hand on my wrist.

I look up at her, anger pooling inside my pupils.

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

She looks at me in awe. It's as if she's oblivious to what he used to do every night. It's as if she's forgotten the feeling of broken glass piercing her skin, the feeling of his fists pounding on her chest, the feeling of his hands striking her cheeks. Did she forget the sound of my wails as I begged for God to take my life each night? Did she forget how loudly I used to scream, how I ached for her, for anyone, to save me?

"Don't talk to me like that Micah!"

Ignoring her, I repeat my question, this time my words holding more fire in their tone.

"What is he doing here?"

She glares at me, the kindness that once wrapped around her stare only seconds ago gone.

"He's your father. He misses you, Micah. It's been years."

"You kicked him out for a reason!"

"I kicked him out because he needed to.. work on himself."

"Work on himself? Are you kidding me?"

My mother's hand raises, and it flies across my face. A familiar pain burns into my cheek.

"I'm tired of the way you talk to me. Show me some damn respect."

I laugh in her face. "Respect? Respect? I hate you, I fucking hate you."

It's as if my lips have a mind of their own. I've never been able to tell her how I really feel about her. I've never been able to stand up to anyone, ever. I think about Theo. I was able to stand up to Cath, all for him. He's changed something in me, and I'm not sure that I like it.

Suddenly, I feel a large hand clasp around my arm. Instantly I am frozen by it's icy touch.

"Now, is that anyway to talk to your mother?" His voice slithers into my ears, so unwanted by everything inside me. My bones seem to quiver at his touch, my skin melts as his grip tightens. I haven't felt his touch in years, yet I'm still used to it.

He pulls me forward, but Mom shoots him a glare, and he lets me go. As soon as he pulls his hand away, I gently touch my now sore shoulder.

As he stands there, staring at me, I feel the fire in me fade away. The lion that roared inside my chest was chased away by a much bigger, more ferocious beast: my father.