Never Look Back: A New Dawn

The First Day - 1

        The repetitive shrill of my digital alarm clock sent a jolt through my lethargic frame. I woke with wide eyes that burned from incoming rays of sunlight. I squinted while holding an arm above my face, blocking the blinding light, and navigated my way out of bed. Once the sheets were lifted, chills immediately hit me, making my flesh tingle with goose bumps.

        Slowly, my sore feet dragged along the hardwood floors and was eventually met with the frigid tiles of the bathroom. I glanced into the mirror that hung over the porcelain sink and first saw the scar that ran along my bicep. I always stuck out like a sore thumb, but I forced myself to ignore it and then examined my tired, hazel eyes, the stubble along my jaw and above my lips, faint wrinkles along the corners of my eyes and mouth, and my dark brown hair that was showing some gray streaks near the sideburns and roots. The years piling onto my face and body seemed to surface more and more each day. I washed up quickly all while huddling myself in for warmth. The heating must’ve gone out in the middle of the night again.

        After changing, I traveled down the hallway and to the first door on the right. I pushed it open and walked over to the twin sized bed in the far corner of the room. She was sleeping peacefully, her head was tucked into her chest and the pastel pink quilts with her favorite princess plastered over it, Sleeping Beauty, was moist around the area of her mouth. I couldn't help but to stifle a chuckle, but it must’ve been loud enough for her to hear because soon after, her eyelids fluttered open.

        She found me with her dark brown eyes and looked both puzzled and half asleep. She stretched her arms out and let out a small yawn before she spoke to me in a dry, mousy voice.

        “Daddy?” she said softly. I stroked back a strand of her tangled, light brown locks of hair and gave her a gentle grin.

        “Hey there, darlin’, you sleep good?” I asked, my tone matching the softness in hers.

        She nodded with a wide smile while clutching onto the small teddy bear she held tightly between her arms. I played with the short chestnut furs on the stuffed animal’s head and poked at the one button left on his face, representing his eye.

        “How’d Little Bear sleep?”

        “Good,” she replied meekly. I ruffled her hair before lifting myself up from the corner of her bed.

        “Well let’s let Little Bear get some more rest, but you've gotta get ready for school. You don’t want to be late for your first day, do you?” Her head shook in disagreement quickly, giving me another chuckle from her giddy behavior.

        I left her to change and wash up while I went into the kitchen to start breakfast. I peeked into the refrigerator and examined the limited variety of foods in it. There were a few bottles of water, a half-gallon of milk, some butter, a nearly empty carton of large eggs, and an apple. In the pantry, there were some crackers, stale whole wheat bread, a can of coffee, and an opened box of Cheerios. It was mostly crushed oats at the bottom. Again, we were running low on foods.

        I sighed, feeling disappointment weigh me down. With an empty kitchen and a pile of overdue bills on the countertop, the Father of the Year Award was going to be an easy win for me. I took the softest pieces of bread that were left and decided to put it in the toaster to crisp. I waited for Hannah to finish getting dressed, and by the time she came into the kitchen and sat on the barstool of the island, I just finished spreading on some butter. She groaned as I slid over the plate of food to her along with a tall glass of milk.

        “I don’t want toast, I have it every day,” she whined.

        “No, honey, you don’t. You had it yesterday and the day before that you had cereal,” I corrected. She crossed her arms and refused to touch her food. I furrowed my brow and gave her a small glare. “Darlin’, you gotta eat breakfast-”