Still Not Alone

I ran into my room and slammed the door behind me. I don’t bother turning the light on and lean against the door, sweat dotting my spine and forehead. 

Downstairs, I hear my step-dad and my mom yelling. I bite my tongue and hold back the tears. 

Finally, I turn on a lamp and soft yellow light, brightens the room. 

My baggy tired eyes observe the room; clothes hanging out of drawers, papers scattered on the floor, trash overflowing. 

Taking a few deep breaths and trying to ignore the shouting downstairs, I run my fingers through my unbrushed hair and make my way to the only clean spot in my room; a desk that sits next to a window. 

On the desk, sits a single laptop, and although it’s old, at first glance one would assume it was brand new. And that’s because I’ve kept it that way. 

I pull out a chair and before sitting down in it, I brush extra crumbs off the seat. I pull up to the desk and I stare down at the laptops surface, hands hovering over it.

 A crash is heard from downstairs and my eyes dart to the doorway as if I’m excepting someone to break into my room. I hear the front  door open and close. 

Placing a hand on my ice-cold window, I stare at the man leaving the house. I see my mother chase after him, hands outstretched and red hair flowing behind her. I can hear their muffled voices shout at each other. 

 “Don’t leave!” My mother cries. 

My stepdad turns around and pulls his arm out of reach from my mother’s grasp “I’m done with you! You’ve been nothing but a pain in the butt!” 

But he doesn’t say butt.

Their argument goes on for a little while and I unconsciously start to glare at my stepdad, fingers curling into fists and pressing against the cold glass. 

My mother falls into her knees and I want to shout for her to get back up and face him with courage. 

But her next words flush any courage out of me: 

“I can’t be alone again!” 

My mind goes through a roller coaster of emotions... most of them including my father’s death. 

Finally I pull the curtains down over the window, as if that will stop their voices from reaching my ears. But even though I can still hear them, it creates the illusion of a safe wall. 

I go back to my desk and plop down in my chair. I open the laptop, the bright screen eliminating my dark face and shadowed expression. 

Fingers tapping aggressively across the keyboard, i type in the password: WILLIAM. 

My father’s name. 

The laptop unlocks and I open the messages app. I scroll through my contacts— most of them I’ve left on read. Friends...family... all of them sending their “love” 

I scoff, doubting that they’ve actually ever cared ... I finally find the contact I’ve messaged most recently. 

My shadowed expression softens as my eyes stall over the contacts name: “DADDY”

 I open it and it reveals hundreds of messages, all sent by me in the last month. 

Everyday, I’ve been writing to him. Everyday I’ve sat down at this desk and spent hours texting him. Sending messages I know i will never get any replies to. 

My fingers hover over the keyboard as my brow furrows into concentration. 

Finally, I start typing: 

“Hi dad. It’s me, Raya. Your sugarplum.” 

I pause, biting my lip. 

“Like I said last week, mom has got into a new relationship. Stupid of course. Another A-hole.” 

My fingers hit the keyboard a little aggressively on that last part.

 “I don’t understand how she can move on. No one will be able to replace you. You’ve been the best dad in the whole wide world.” 

Tears start to blur my vision and I wipe my eyes. 

“Anyways. I punched a bully at school again. He was being rude to these kids and was stealing from them.” 

I pause yet again, as tears fill my eyes again. 

“I know you’d be proud of me. I miss you dad. I’m sorry you had to-“ 

I take in a deep breath as I begin to choke on tears. I place a hand over my beating heart as the day my dad died replays in my mind. Pushing the thoughts away, I continue typing.

 “I’m sorry you had to leave so quickly. I hope I’ll get to see you again soon. I wish I could. I know it’s impossible.” 

My fingers are shaking at this point. I hear my stepdads car drive away. My mom cries outside my window. 

“But like you always said, nothing is impossible as long as you don’t give up.”

 I stuff my face into my hands, tears soaking my sleeves as I sob. 

I miss him so much my heart aches. Everyday I long for him to come back. 

Pulling a blanket off the floor, I pull it tightly around me. I lay my head on my laptop, fingers brushing the surface. 

I take a shivering breath and whisper “I miss you dad.” 

And as I doze off into a dreamless sleep, someone starts typing. 

Then... a message sends. A reply. 

And it says “Hi sugarplum. Daddy’s coming home.”