Tangled

Ben Black and his twenty-one year old daughter Cynthia are having a steamy incestuous love affair. This affair has always troubled Ben deeply. But now the revelation by his daughter that she may carry his child brings his world crashing down around him. Can it possibly get any worse he wonders?

I awoke at 6am the following morning. My baby Cynthia was still sleeping so I crept out of the room. My bladder was fit to burst from all the beer I had drank a few hours before. And a little man was busy with a jack-hammer pounding away in my head.

Standing over the bowel in the bathroom reliving myself, the events of the last twenty-four hours come flooding back again to my mind. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and I was and barely able to look myself in the eyes. How could you do this? How could you hurt your precious little girl? I ask myself. The sad truth was I had no answers to these questions.

I filled the washbasin with water and I began to ready myself to shave, pausing for a moment, I attempted to settle my hand that held the razor. It was still trembling from shock.

When I had finished I crept back into the room and my baby was still asleep. After I dressed quietly I return to her side, I gently stroke her forehead and she slowly opened her eyes.

"Hi dad," she says. "Is it morning already?" she asks, as she rubs the sleep from hers eyes.

"Yes my love. It's seven-fifteen." I say, as I kiss her gently on her head, pausing a moment with my kiss.

"I'll go put the kittle on, and you can get dressed."

"Ok dad, give me a minute and I'll throw something on."

I thought she had a shallow colour about her face, and her wonderful blues eyes seemed to have lost some of their sparkle. A short time later she joined me in the kitchen and as she sat down I poured her a cup of tea.

After taking a sip she asked. "Any thoughts on a doctor dad?"

"I found a female doctor about ten miles away, her name is Julie Preston. We can leave after you finish your tea." I reply.

"I'm finished now dad if you want to go."

I can see she has barely drunk any tea, and as she starts to get up she staggers slightly. I put my arms out to catch her and she sits back down again.

Smiling up at me she says. "Let's try that again dad."

I help Cynthia out to the car, and I jump in and we set off for the doctor's office, the heavy morning traffic keeps my mind occupied as I drive along. I feel her hand on my arm and I turn to look at her. Smiling she says. "I love you dad." "I love you to." I reply.

It was only a short time later when I noticed she had gone quite, turning over to look, I see she is slumped forward in her seat. Her seat belt was the only thing holding her in place.

In a panic I shook her calling her name. "Cynthia. Cynthia are you ok!" I shout. But I got no reaction, the lights had turned red but I had not noticed and I almost hit the car in front.

I hopped out and ran to her door, opening it I started to shake her trying to wake her. "Oh Jesus baby please wake up. Please wake up! " I cried alarmingly.

But she was unconscious and her breathing was shallow.

The drivers behind me started to blow their horns, they were angry at being held up. Little did they realise the drama that was unfolding a few feet away.

Hopping back into the car I tried to think of the nearest hospital, St Gabriel's I thought. It's only a short distance ahead, so I head for it as fast as I could; pulling outside the casualty entrance.

I hopped out and I heard a voice call. "Hey fella. You can't park there, it's for ambulances only!" Turning around I see it is a security guard.

"It's an emergency. My daughter..." I call out, but before I could finish the guard had caught sight of Cynthia slumped in the car. He shouts at me.

"Jesus Christ buddy. Run, run in quick; go in the door on the right. I'll take care of your daughter!"

I ran in the doors and I explained to a nurse what had happened. She called a doctor and they ran out to the car.

Opening the door the doctor asked. "What happened, how long is she out?"

"I don't know, five or ten minutes." I say.

"What's her name?" He asks me, as I leaned in from the driver's side.

"It's Cynthia, Cynthia Black, she's my daughter."

The doctor shakes Cynthia calling her name trying to wake her, but she doesn't respond.Hurriedly the bundle her on to a stretcher and take her inside the emergency room.

The nurse stops me going in saying the team need to work on my baby. She asks me to recall exactly what had happened. I told her as much as I dared.

I couldn't say. "Oh nurse I have been banging my daughter night, noon and morning. And I think she is pregnant!" Could I now?

The nurse disappears in, and after what seemed like a very long time the team push Cynthia through the door on the trolley and they head for the lift. I chase after them and I can see they have a line in her arm and she is breathing oxygen through a mask.

"What's up with her, what's wrong with my baby?" I ask the doctors, as I reached in to touch her arm. She briefly opens her eyes and tries to smile.

"We have to take her to theatre Mr. Black, your daughter is hemorrhaging inside and needs surgery right away."

They bundled her in to the lift and the nurse stopped me going in, she told me this lift goes to the theatre on the second floor, and I had to use the next one and go wait in the waiting room.

Frantically I pushed the buttons to call the lift, but then I think Fuck! the car. I raced to the front door and the guard is still there.

"How's you daughter doing?" He asks.

I tell him she has been taken to the theatre and he says.

"Go back in and look after your daughter. I will park your car and hold on to the keys.They will tell you where I am at the front desk when you need the car."

I thank him, I couldn't believe the kindness this security guard; this stranger had shown me. Perhaps he had a daughter himself like Cynthia I thought, as I turn to rush back inside.

Running back I find the stairs and race up to the second floor, I find the empty waiting room and I begin to pace up and down. Oh Christ I thought, what if I lose my baby girl?

The hours tick by and every shadow I see move has me jumping up to see if it's a nurse or doctor with some news.Eventually a surgeon appears at the door and walks in and he turns to close the door.

Before he can say a word I blurt out "My daughter, my little girl, how is she?"

"Mr. Black, your daughter is a very lucky lady. We operated and she was bleeding badly from her womb. Did you know she was pregnant?"

What could I say but lie. "No Doctor, I didn't know."

Sitting me down he explained that the pregnancy was known as an ectopic pregnancy. I told him I had never heard of it. He continued to explain it happens sometimes that the embryo stays inside a woman's fallopian tubes. And if not detected early enough it can cause haemorrhaging inside.

He tells me that she will make a slow recovery and that her body has taken a hammering because of it. I ask if I can see her, and he says only for a few moments. They were just moving her to the high dependency unit and that he would send a nurse when they were ready.

Eventually a nurse led me into the unit, I hardly recognise my little girl with all the lines and tubes hanging out of her. She was still hooked up to oxygen and breathing shallow.

I start to rub my fingers through her fringe, my hand shaking as I did.

Sitting down I cradled my head in my hands and I begin to cry. I just couldn't handle the fact that I had brought this all on her.

I had almost lost my beautiful baby girl. The only person I cared deeply for in the whole world.

Seeing me as I was, the nurse came over from her station, and placing her hand on my shoulder she whispered into my ear. "Come this way Mr. Black. She is a tough cookie and she will be ok."

She took me into her office and sat me down and opening a press she took out a small bottle of brandy. "Here Mr. Black, drink this. I keep it for occasions like this." She says, as she pours it into a cup.

I gulp the brandy down, and it helps steady my nerves.

She explains that I should not worry as they will take good care of her. She asks me if there is anybody she can call for me. And I tell her it's only me and Cynthia, we have no other family. I ask if I can stay by her side.

But the nurse said no, and seeing I was so distressed she led me to a small room just off the theatre floor a short distance away. It had a small cot that she used herself when she had to pull a double shift.

It's not much she tells me, but says I won't be disturbed. I ask her to promise me to come fetch me as soon as Cynthia had woken up.

She left closing the door behind her, leaving me to my thoughts.

I have had many long nights of worry about my little girl when she was small. Cynthia had measles when she was very little and was very sick with a fever, but I never left her side.

Now when she needed me most I wasn't there. Curling up on the cot I tried to sleep, I constantly woke up shaking as nightmares tortured my mind.

I wasn't sure of the time when the nurse opened the door and called me. "Mr. Black are you awake?"

"Yes nurse," I reply. "Is she awake, how is she?"

"She's calling for you Mr. Black. Come this way." She says, as she walks out the door.

I follow the nurse back to the unit and by baby is awake, but only just. I lean in and kiss her on the head and I whisper. "I'm sorry Cynthia. I never meant to hurt my love." Tears were starting to run down my face again.

She opens her eyes and smiles up at me. Barely able to speak, she croaks. "Don't cry dad, please don't cry. I love you."

I continue to rub my fingers along her forehead and she presses her head into hand and smiles, slowly she drifts off to sleep again. The nurse calls me over to her and tells me I should go home, I protest, but I had to admit defeat. I was exhausted and I would be of little use to my baby in this state.

I eventually made my way to the front desk, it was now 6:30am the following day, the guard who took my car was off duty but he had left my keys and his phone number asking me to let him know how my daughter was. I sent a text to him thanking him and gave him and update.

I eventually made it home to the house, and I found myself back in Cynthia's room where all of this had somehow started all those years ago.

Her teddy bear was still on the floor where she dropped it, picking it up I curled up in her bed and clinging on to the bear I whisper a silent prayer, begging whatever deity that created us to help my baby, before I pass out cold.

Tangled part five will follow soon. Thanks for reading.