Pure Obsession {WIP}

01 | Like a Warning

  The knife gleams from the early morning light streaming in from behind me, my reflection hazy in the threatening blade.  Leaning over the sink, I rinse it off and kneel down, looking around before opening the drawer underneath.  A gray safe sits tucked behind strategically placed cleaning supplies.  I push them out of the way and unlock the safe, carefully placing the knife in the only empty slot in the wood block.  I close the safe and move the cleaning supplies back to their original places.  I stand back up and move the two triangle shapes onto a plate with chips and carrot sticks.  Call me Martha Stewart.  I arrange the plate and a cup of juice onto a tray, a few small capsules on the napkin he no doubt will fight me on.

  "Ready for lunch?"  A smile spreads across my face as I carry the tray into the next room.  I stop in front of my dad's usual place in his old recliner and set the tray on the fold out table in front of him, the tv playing the news.  Sonya, the last girl who was kidnapped, was found dead just this morning.  Pushing aside my own feelings towards my former classmate's death, I simply smile and place the napkin in his lap.

  "What is this?"  He asks, a certain edge to his tone.

  "A turkey sandwich with baby carrots and potato chips.  And guava juice.  I refilled your water bottle, but I know how much you love guava juice."  He looks up at me as if I had admitted to filling his glass with cyanide.

  "I hate guava juice."  He shakes his head and picks up one of the pills.  "What the hell are these?"

  "They're your pills, dad.  You can take them with your guava juice if you'd like."  This was a conversation I have become very accustomed to.

  "And have them control me?  Absolutely not."  He crosses his arms stubbornly.

  "Dad, I promise you that these pills are only going to do good.  They're going to help you.  Please, I need you to take them now before I leave."

  "You're leaving?  Where are you going?" 

  "Back to school.  Then after I have a meeting with the college and career advisor.  I'll be back before you wake up from your nap."  I try to explain as calmly as I can.  My dad simply nods and takes a bite of his sandwich.

  "Well good luck to you.  My daughter has a meeting with a  college and career counselor coming up too.  She's a very smart girl, top of her class."  He smiles proudly and takes another bite of his sandwich.  "She's a nice girl, but incredibly shy.  I think the two of you could be friends."

  I suck in my lips and bite down on them to keep the tears from coming.  I shouldn't be surprised in these instances where he doesn't seem know know who I am, but it still hurts to stand in front of my own dad, a stranger in his eyes.

  "I am your daughter, papa."  I clear my throat as I do my best to keep my voice steady.

  He considers me for a second then shakes his head, finishing up one of the triangle slices of his sandwich.  This had happened quite a bit in the past few months and I've always assumed that I was handling it the way I should.  There was only one technique I knew would help un-fog his memory and it always seemed to work.

  "It's me, Amara."

  He scoffs and shakes his head, finishing his sandwich and moving onto his potato chips.

  "It is.  It's me, waterfall."  I remind him of the nickname he had given me when I was very young.  My long, shiny hair has inspired the poet inside of him to come up with a suitable nickname.

  His face drops as he looks up at me, dread pooling in his eyes; no doubt, beating himself up over the fact that he forgot his own daughter.  This wasn't an unusual occurrence, but when it happened it took a toll on the both of us.  He visibly relaxes in his seat as he reaches out and places his wrinkly hand on top of mine.