Dreams That Do Not Matter (gmw fanfiction)

Girl Meets Back to Square One

Verity's POV

I'm pacing around in circles in our small run down kitchen. Some minor repairs would be needed, as in the rest of the house, but I have no idea when I will find enough time to do any of that.

To say I'm anxious at the moment is an understatement. This will be the first time me and Missy will see our father since he woke up from his coma two weeks ago. He's to be discharged today. It will be also the first time we'll actually be face to face with him in years. There's no telling how this could go. It's clear that before the hospital he refused to look at either of us. But things might have gotten a bit better. Maybe he heard us being there with him while he was in coma, maybe even registered the letter. Or his reaction could be much worse. After all, he was in coma for some time and seeing us, his daughters he's done everything to forget about, right now might be too much.

I know we probably would have done better if we had visited him in hospital while he was awake. That way, we at least could have prevented some of the more drastic reactions to take place. He might be quite unpredictable after everything that happened. But both me and Missy were too scared to go see him.

I feel kinda guilty for being scared of him. I know that he might not be very open to getting close to us again, but I think deep inside he still loves us. After all, we're still his daughters. And mom loved us very much. I do not doubt that even after all those years and the veil of death that separates them, our father still loves mom very much. He wouldn't hurt us. 

I look over to Missy who is sitting on one of the chairs at the table. There are still four of them, although only two are used at this point and it hurts to look at the two empty chairs while eating, constantly being reminded of what we have lost. Missy's eyes watch me pace through the room over and over again, her shoulders very tense. She is very quiet, but then again, I don't feel like saying anything either. 

I hear the front door open and then close. I know Missy heard too by the way she flinches at the sudden sound. It is not very loud, but still manages to echo through our almost empty house and seems almost deafening at the moment. 

I stop shortly when our father's figure somehow hesitantly appears in the kitchen doorway. He suddenly stops abruptly in his tracks. It's not that he's not been in the room for a long time, we usually kept finding beer bottles and stuff all over the place. It has to do with our presence here. I'm sad to say he hasn't been the only one to avoid us all these years. The two of us have done our best to stay out of his way as much as possible as well. I had no idea what even being in the same room as him would cause and I still don't know. But it's time to stop hiding. 

He seems to not believe his eyes at first. He blinks rapidly and rubs at them. He lets out a strangled whisper of our names, "Mississippi... Verity..." That's all. After that he goes quiet and goes back to just eyeing us and neither me nor Missy dare to approach him or say anything either. 

After a moment, his eyes fill with tears all at once. Then suddenly everything happens way too fast for me to keep a track of. Our father basically throws himself straight at the cupboard in the corner of the small room, instantly pulling out one of the drawers, the movement so abrupt, it nearly ends up on the ground. He quickly grabs a knife and is about to press it to his wrist.

At that exact moment, cold fear claws at my heart like a wild beast that cannot be stopped. Without thinking, I dash to him and within a second, I'm wrestling him for the knife. I know that might not seem like a wisest move, but I can see that given the state he is in, he would not listen to any reason and might harm himself before anything could be said. So even though it is very risky, I tighten my hold on the knife and try to rip it out of his tight grip. I may not look very strong, but can be fierce when it comes to protecting my family.