Chapter 4

Once I opened my eyes, I was met with complete brightness, so bright that I had to close my eyes almost immediately and reopened them slowly.

Why was it so bright?

I moved to push myself up in a sitting position but flinched when I felt a sting on my left hand. Almost instantly, my whole body was aching and I could feel that I had forced my body when I tried to get up. All the muscles in my entire body were screaming as I made the slightest moves.

Memories came rushing back into my brain and without a warning, all the pain was released, as if it was asleep and was waiting until recognition dawned on me.

I realized then that I was at the hospital with both my wrists bandaged.

What was even worst is the fact that it was my father who had brought me here. Well, who else would it be? No one visited us since my mother left us, no relatives, no family friends, nobody. But I remember clearly that we had a lot of people visiting us before my mom left me alone with him.

I was brought out of my train of thoughts when a nurse came inside, gave me a nod with a small smile and began pressing buttons on the wall right beside my head. When she came to the over side of me, she began adjusting the tube that was connected to my left hand.

I tried to call her but I couldn’t since my throat was dried. I even tried signaling her but I guess she was too preoccupied with what she was doing and then just like that, she took out a black pen and scribbled something messily on the small board that she was holding in her left hand. I was waiting for her to glance up once she was done but she began walking out while continuing on with whatever she was writing.

No wait! I raised my right hand to at least get her attention but retreated back immediately as soon as I felt the pain in my wrist increasing. I needed water and that too, quick.

Just then, I saw a glass full of water sitting on the bedside table but it was too far away. I tried reaching out for it anyway but the door opened and revealed my father.

I froze and gasped when he walked in slowly, a wicked glint flickering in his narrowed eyes.

I knew it was him who saved me and got me here but why?

Why did he save me? He should have let me die.

He would have been happy without me.

I tried to get away from him but he was already perching downwards, right in front of me, his face just millimeters away from mine and I just couldn’t breathe, afraid that he would raise his hand to beat me for what I have done.

I did not know what to do. I gulped hard but the dryness in my throat was killing me. I needed water. I felt as if I hadn’t had water since forever.

I was aware that I was shaking in fright and I know that my father was aware too since he had a dark smile playing on his lips when he took in my whole state. I know that he’s satisfied with himself for what I’ve become, all due to him.

I became a coward, all because of him.

I’ve stopped talking, all because of him.

I’m being bullied at school, all because of him.

My life is being ruined, all because of him.

My grades are no longer the same, all because of him.

I’m no longer the same, all because of him.

The door opened once again but this time, it was a young good-looking man with a manly physique, probably in his early twenties, dressed in black clothes from head to toe who walked in with an air of authority and purpose. Even thought he looked like an easy going guy, he sure had a serious look on his face, almost like he was trying to look tough as his steady gaze landed on my father before settling on me.

He extended his right outstretched palm towards me once he stopped right beside my dad. When I glance at my dad, he was looking straight at me, and I knew this look. It was a warning, as if telling me to try it if I had the guts. He was warning me and he knew that I would never do it because I was a coward.

When the unknown man followed my gaze and stopped on my father’s face, the latter quickly contorted his face into a concerned and worried looking dad, just like how a typical father would react after seeing his child in such a state at the hospital.

The man returned his gaze on me and raised one eyebrow at me while still holding his hand out for me to shake. I flinched when I tried to raise my right hand and the man noticed my scrunched up in pain face, so he dropped his hand while smiling sheepishly at me.

“Sorry, miss. Myself, Jason Palmer, the officer in charged for your case.'' he said in an authoritative and gruff yet, low tone. Even his voice screamed masculinity as he narrowed his nomad-blue eyes, studying me. 

“I’ll like to know why you tried to commit suicide...'' he trailed off when he saw me looking wearily at my father.

“Don’t worry, you can tell me anything and of course, I’m sure Mr. Thomas won’t scold you if your attempted to suicide is related to some boyfriend issues, right, Mr. Thomas?'' he glanced at my father with a hint of a smirk playing across his lips.

Maybe, he was trying to lighten the atmosphere?

Well, it was in vain as the slight tension in the air doubled in size.

“Of course, I wouldn’t. I would like to know why my little Lea tried to do something like that and if it’s because of some guy at school, then I’ll personally take matters in my hand.'' he raised his hands exasperatedly, trying to sound like a worried father and for once, I truly wished that my father had not changed at all.

I don’t know who to blame anymore, my mother who left without any reasons or my father who reacted like an unreasonable father. Who was really responsible behind the departure of my mom? What was the reason? I would never know because there is no one to ask. Not even my father. Whenever I would ask him about it, he would shout and beat me mercilessly. Ever since my mother left us, he never looked at me like a father would a daughter. He hated me. I was just a burden to him, then, why did he save me? If I was really a burden, he should have let me die.

I miss my family.

I miss my father.

I miss my mother.

I miss us, being a family.

I know that it sucks but there isn't anything I can really do. 

You can’t really re-assemble broken relationships.

Relationships are as fragile as mirrors.

You can try putting the broken pieces back together but the visible ugly scar left behind will repeatedly remind you of the past, something that you can’t really change.