Dreams in the form of Words

Happy Birthday: Part One

"Happy Birthday, Juliet!" My dad bellowed from the doorway. His long brown hair was recently cut, but it still hung right above his shoulders. I pushed the blue covers off of me, jumping out of bed and running into his arms.

"Thanks, Dad." I smiled.

"So, how does it feel to be 10 years old?"

"It feels the same as being 9," I admitted.

He rubbed my arm. "I made you your favorite,"

My smile grew. "Waffles!"

He nodded as I ran past him and into the small kitchen. We've lived here for as long as I remember. It was a 2 bedroom, 1 story house. There was an open plan dining room-living room-kitchen, and then a hallway that leads to Dad's room, my room, and then a bathroom. A few weeks ago, Dad finally got me the swing I wanted and tied it up in the big tree in the front yard.

We lived out in the country. Everyday I walked 10 minutes to my bus stop, where I sit on the bus for an hour. Dad doesn't drive me. He says he can't. I always ask him why, and he just says "I'll tell you when you're older."

"Julie, I think today is the day that I can tell you why I can't leave the house much." My ears perked up as I poured syrup on my large plate of waffles.

"Okay," I shrugged, digging into my breakfast.

"Honey, I don't think you understand," Dad said, putting his hand on my small shoulder. I looked at his eyes. They were brown, unlike my green ones. When I thought about it, we didn't look anything alike. Dad had brown hair, brown eyes, long nose, and strong jaw. I had blonde hair, green eyes, a small nose and chubby cheeks.

"Is it about my Mommy?" I asked with a small voice. Dad never answered my questions about my Mommy. He would always say "She was not good. Don't think about her. You have me, and that's all you need."

I never thought twice about it, until now. Kids at school always talked about their moms, and then I always had to say I didn't have one. I can never invite kids to my house, or go to other people's houses. I just go to school and back. But I never knew why.

"Then what is it?" I asked, still shoveling food into my mouth.

"In my past, I've done some bad things. You don't need to know right now, but there was this city I...visited. I was not welcome there, but for me to leave, they had to give me something in return." He looked up beneath his lashes. "You."

I chewed as my thoughts processed. "Is that where I was born?"

"Yes, 10 years ago, on this day."

"Is that where my Mommy is?" Dad's mood shifted.

"I think so, but I'm not sure." He mumbled. "I wanted to take you there. The town was called Hawksdale. I went there with only one thing in mind, and I got more than anything I could ask for."

I put my fork down. "What do you mean?"

"I need you to pack your stuff. Use your Pink suitcase and backpack. Grab all of your favorite toys and books, and don't leave your toothbrush. I don't need you 'forgetting' it."

"Why do I have to pack, Daddy? Where are we going?" My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Are you coming with me?"

Dad shook his head. "No, Juliet. I can't come with you."

"Why not?" My lip quivered.

"They don't like me there," he said, smiling sadly. "I have to do the right thing."

I went into my room. I grabbed all of my things and stuffed them into my bags. I got my lucky shirt, my elephant stuffed animal, Ellie, my books and my tablet. I grabbed everything important until I could fit nothing else in the bags.