The Other Half of My Heart

Chapter Six: The Fat Man Who Is My Father

Chapter Six: The Fat Man Who Is My Father

It was a cowboy style town, and where my dad stood dust swirled around his feet. Sun shone behind him, making it seem as though this was a scene from a movie.  Highly unrealistic, and if anyone had explained this picture to me, I would've laughed at them in their face.

Rage swept over me. He had abandoned my mother, Viola, and I when she I were born. How dare he speak to me?  He had no right to utter a single word, let alone to me.  He left us, abandoned us.  How- Why would he try? How did he even know what I looked like? And why wouldn't he call me Viola?

I wanted to yell at him and go into a rage with him. I wanted to tell him just how much he had hurt my family and me. How much of an idiot would you have to be to leave your two baby girls and a mother to handle them alone?! And he had never come back.  Not even for a second.  

I barely recognized him, but how I could was from the photo album I had stared at for years, wishing I could have a daddy, wishing he would come back.  Now, after sixteen years, he expected me to talk to him?!  

He had left me many years ago, and he had no right to stop me here and now. He had no right to even utter my name with such surprise, or at all.  

This was not my father and I desired to lash out at him and strike his face, but words left me and my arms would not move.  

I was standing there, stock still and seething with silent rage. How did I get from a spring-like town with loving people to here? I hadn't run that far.. Had I? But even if I had run straight into him he should never look at me. I was better than him.  He did not even deserve to look at me.

My black skinny jeans were ripped and the tips moved slightly in the wind.  They tickled my bare legs, annoying me, upsetting me even more.

A few trees swirled slightly. Finally, he spoke up. "Yes? This is your father. Look at me." He ended with that demand.

I forced myself to look at his fat pig-like face. He was ugly, with bristles as hair and missing teeth. He was very overweight and hideous. I was almost glad that he had left right then and there, for who wanted a disgusting father?  

"Okay, I'll look at you, but first answer a question for me."  I demanded.

"Ask now, before I take you." He growled at me.

"Why are you so stupid?" I asked him.  

He looked baffled, as if him being stupid was some form of news to him. The expression looked almost like a grimace on his face. "I'm not stupid!" he said, spitting the word 'stupid' out as if it were as a disgusting word as his face.  

He had pure mold growing on his teeth and as he started closer to me I could smell his reeking breath.  His breath was as bad as a dumpster on a hot summer day, which both me and my sister could tell you from personal experience was not a pleasant smell.

"Where is your sister?" he demanded, his face inches from mine.  

I felt unsafe around him. Like he would kidnap me and make me do horrid things that were not right. I knew I had to get away. "She's dead!" I spat at him. "Not like you'd care, you never gave a- oh my! What in the name of mercy of that?" I screeched pointing behind him, putting on a mask of sheer horror on my face. 

He was either actually very stupid, or just retarded, because he turned and fell for the trick, but someone was headed over here. My mom.  Oops, I had not meant for something to actually be there, this was bad.

When she saw him she froze.  Anger, Horror, and sadness all combined together to make a very mortified expression on her porcelain face.  My mother looked so pale and broken-hearted from how she was before anything bad happened to my sister.