F.A.I.T.H.

MOVIE >scene182> - A Dorm. A Delinquent. A Girl.

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"At age sixteen things started to change...she had come home drunk one night. At this point, I was pretty much a father figure to her, and I couldn't stand aside and watch her do whatever she pleases. That's when I first hit her, a slap across the face that had her crying and throwing a tantrum for hours. At that time, I didn't care what she did, she could cry and I wasn't going to feel bad for her any longer.

"I needed to stop her from what she was becoming. The anger she held, it was indescribable. She always felt the need to make someone feel as miserable and as bad as she does. It drove me insane. I was protective of her to the point where I was going to take parental actions without her parents' involvement.

"I stopped her from going to school, took all kinds of entertainment and all kinds of communication devices away from her, then locked her in her room. At first, she didn't complain. She didn't scream or try to break down the door. She saw it as a challenge, and she was going to make me feel sorry for her and have me ask her to come out. I didn't. I let her stay in there for days, with me only coming in to bring her food.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted her to sit and think. That's all she would've been able to do in a locked room. I wanted her to think about her past, present and future. I wanted her to consider her parents as human beings who feel and can understand if she asked – made them to. I wanted her to see a different world than the one she had been looking at. But I guess I was asking for too much all at once.

"Leaving her alone to think? She only thought of all the after-school activities her parents enrolled her in to get her out of the way. Piano lessons, soccer, golf, dance, gymnastics, on and on with any possible activity that could take her away from them, away from having to deal with her. It's the reason all these things nauseate her now. They remind her of how worthless she was as a daughter.

"And one day, one day I walked in and she was just standing there, where she had fixed a rope hanging from her bedroom fan. She was staring at it as if she had suddenly gone blind, numb, standing on a chair and ready to take her own life. At that sight, I went hysteric. Her whole body was covered in scars that I hadn't seen before. I screamed, I shouted, and all she did was stand there and say 'Maybe if I do this I can show them how cruel those people who gave birth to me are. I can show them what seed they planted. Maybe they'd regret it and feel sorry that they didn't care about me'.

"We cried together that day. I realized what I had done was the most stupid thing. Making her think of her pain wasn't the solution at all. What she had been doing all these years, it might have been awfully wrong, but it wasn't her fault. She was just a kid who longed for her parents, and she was so full of hate because of their actions.

"It was her parents fault, the adults, who had given up on her for all these years. How could they? Wouldn't they at least call her for ten seconds every day and remind her that they cared about her? Couldn't they at least do that? If they were dead, she would be able to find an excuse as to why they ignored her – why they were never there, but what excuse was there when they were alive for them not to see their child for not days or months, but years upon years. And when she'd finally see them for a moment, they would treat her like she was no one they cared for.

"I was absolutely outraged. As soon as she had fallen asleep, I ran over to them and made my point clear. I cursed them to hell. I didn't care if they fired me. Huh, being fired would have felt better than seeing her suffer every day. And I knew they wouldn't have the slightest clue if I would still take care of her since their absence in her life was just that outrageous. Thankfully my protest had a positive response. And they said they had some great news that they wanted to celebrate with her on her seventeenth birthday.

"Fayth, as much as she protested against going to meet with her parents, was unbelievably shy of the idea. She kept worrying that they wouldn't like her or what she was like, or even what she looked like. She worried that her dad would find out about her report cards and realize that he was right to never see her all along.

"She worried a lot about meeting them, because she was so happy. The happiness I saw on her face was so pure, happiness I hadn't seen on her for the longest time. It might have taken seventeen years, but she was going to finally celebrate her birthday with her parents. Like every other, normal child.

"On her seventeenth birthday, you should have seen her. She was like a princess out of a dream. So happy and flawless, it felt as if the past seventeen years were never there. Her smiles, her happiness, it was a dream come true for me. I was happier than I could have ever imagined myself to be to see her like this.

"She left. I didn't go, as it was a private family event. She wanted me to go with her, telling me that if I didn't, she would fire me herself. I couldn't, of course. I had to minimize my presence in her life when her parents were there. And so she left by herself." 

"If I could go back in time... I would've went with her that day. I regret not going more than any regret I've ever had."