Part 4 (2/2)

I wonder what she is thinking as she mumbles

a bubble of words below her tongue. She

must have had a bullet-sharp thought

and needed to blow her mind apart

as she has blunt trauma to the head.

Her hair bleeds of crimson trees all blanketing

the bed like scarlet branches in autumn.

I wonder what she sees; white walls cracked

with chips of black underneath, like the scales

of a dragon. The ice-cube trays on the ceiling

melt the room with a cooling effect, causing

us to have fog emanate from our breath.

I wonder if she feels my flaming thoughts

as I surround her in my broken skin.

I remembered writing that poem right after I got out of the hospital. I had visions early on of becoming something else. Underneath the poem was a small bio.

”You changed your last name. I wasn't sure if it was you, but from the poem, in my heart I knew. It reminded me so much of your mother.”

I had to change my last name to protect my mother and son. They believed I was dead, or at least that was what Delmara told me. My father on the other hand had no idea what had happened.

Looking down at the poem again and then glancing back up at him, I asked, ”But why? After all these years you come to me now?”

”There wasn't a day that went by I didn't think of you and your mother, but she shut me out. After what happeneda” he trailed off.

”Wait! This is coming all too fast. I need to get back to work.”

”I'm sorry I came at a bad time. Can we talk again later on today? Tomorrow perhaps?” He looked so desperate. I could see in his eyes how excited he was to finally see me again, but I still felt unsure. Something wasn't right.

”Can I visit you later on tonight?”

”I can't.” I paused, remembering I couldn't lie or something bad would happen. ”Can I call you?”

”Yes, please do. Let me give you my number.” I gave him a pen from my ap.r.o.n as he took a napkin out of the holder. He jotted it down and handed it over to me.

”I'll call you then.”

He got up from the booth, thanked me and headed out the door.

I couldn't believe it. My father after all these years was looking for me? I thought he wanted nothing to do with me and my mother. All I remember my mother saying was that he found another life for himself, whatever that meant. I never questioned her about it. We lived a dream lifea”well, until Adam came to ruin everything. The only other time she mentioned him was when Adam cheated on her. I'll never forget what she said: ”Men. They are the father of all evil. You can't trust a one.”

I looked at the napkin again and noticed it was an outside-area code, one that I wasn't familiar with. I slipped it into my ap.r.o.n and went back to work. All I kept thinking was how he made me feel. I felt energized around him, more powerful. After my father left that day, it seemed like all energy left mea”like I'd been sucked of all my strength. Why did he make me feel this way?

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