My dad worked late nights at a bar. I remember staying up the night before my birthday, cause dad told me that he'd have a really important gift that he couldn't wait to give me. When I saw his car pull into the driveway, I couldn't contain my excitement. I ran outside in my bare feet and opened the car door for him as he practically spilled out of the driver's seat. The car sat in idle as he weakly grabbed onto my ankle.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I had to do it."
Visibly shaken, I knelt down and began to ask my father what he was on about.
Before he could speak, a groan escaped his lips.
"We need to get inside."
My father practically hung over my shoulders as he shut the door and locked it.
"Dad?" I began, my voice trembling.
At first, I thought he was crying. His shoulders began to tremble, and soon, he was laughing hysterically.
"You're gift, sweetie. She's going to fix you." he said through tearful eyes, "Happy birthday."
From somewhere inside the house, someone else laughed.
