Today is the anniversary of the worst day of my life. I always make sure I work today. Work helps keep my mind off of it. But today business is slow and I felt alone with my thoughts. Three years ago I was a self centered brat. I fought with my parents and was the wet dream of all the boys at my high school. I have shoulder length brunette hair, always styled, stand 5'5", and always spent 2 hours in the morning just to do my make-up. Red lipstick, matching nail polish, blush, mascara, eyeliner, and eye shadow, I was the epitome of beauty. Then my life changed forever. On my birthday, I begged to go to the mall with my friends after school. My parents didn't want me to; they had something very special planned. I got my way. My dad was supposed to pick me up, but called my mom to do it. He stayed later at work, now knowing I wasn't going to be home right away and just figured he'd meet us at home. Mom and I argued the whole way home about my decision and how upset they were about it.
She lost control and we crashed into a big oak tree. My leg was pinned, but worse yet, my mom was unresponsive to my repeated pleas of "Are you o.k.?" and "Please wake up?" I dug through my purse, found my phone, and dialed 911. When the ambulance came, they pulled me out, the bottom part of my right leg mangled. They couldn't do anything for my mom. I lost a year of school due to physical therapy and my dad, who was on the verge of becoming a partner at his law firm, turned to alcohol. All they wanted was to spend my birthday with me in their own special way. I had to be selfish. Now, I don't care about my looks. My hair lays flat and I don't wear any make-up. I bring in what money I can to help pay the bills, take care of the cooking and housework, all the while trying to finish high school and at least graduate. My dad just drinks and lives off of what was supposed to be his retirement savings, I know he can't have much left. I feel he resents me because my looks now resemble mom. My family is ruined and it's all my fault.
"We're pretty much done in here tonight, Amber. You can go home."
"Alright, I will. See you in a couple days, Theresa."
"Happy 19th Birthday once again and don't forget the rest of your cake. Also if you ever want to do anything, talk, or hang out, I'm available, O.K.? And say hi to your dad for me."
"O.K., thanks, and I will."
I got up from my stool and limped to the time clock. I feel I only got this job because the owner, Theresa, was my mom's best friend and felt sorry for me. She has been very nice to me. I can't do much. I just can't walk very well. I have a modest limp and get tired quickly. I just sit on a stool, am friendly, and cash out the restaurants patrons. I really need this job.
I finally made it to my piece of shit car, a twenty year old neon. Say hi to dad for her, I thought, yeah, if he's not passed out yet. I arrived home shortly after 9:00. I heard an old episode of Seinfeld coming from the living room.
"I'm home dad."
No response. Alright, time to find dad. I found him on the toilet. He was only wearing his boxers while his black and grey hair acted as a pillow for his 6'4" frame which slumped up against the wall.
"Dad." I kept calling and shaking him until I got some reply. "C'mon dad let's get you to bed."
I put his arm around the back of my head and lifted. I was his crutch the whole way to the bedroom. Not an easy task, but it has become less difficult with all the practice I have through the years. I laid him down and through a blanket on him. I headed back to the living room, turned off the TV, and cleaned up his empty beer cans. I took a shower, threw my pajamas on, and went to sleep myself.
"Ah!"
I sat straight up, eyes wide with fear. I knew this would happen. It happens every year. It's my own personal nightmare; the crash over and over again. I looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. I got up and had to change. My clothes were soaked in sweat. I decided to throw my robe on instead of trying to search for my other pajamas. I lied back down.
"Shit." I said to no one.
My sheet was saturated in sweat as well. Alright, I'll just lay down with dad. Maybe just his presence will be enough to quell the nightmares. I went to his room, and though he has changed positions, he still stays on "his" side of the bed. I lay down on "moms" side of the bed and went to sleep.
My eyes flew open. I found myself laying in the fetal position, on my side, head bent down, knees up, and my butt towards my dad. My robe I was wearing, which only goes to right above my knees, was rolled up near my waist.
'What was that? What is between my legs?' I thought.
Something was near my pussy. It must have been there for some time now, because I was wet from the constant light stimulation it had been receiving.
"Um, dad?" I said lightly.
A snore was his response. I was just about to get up to go back to my room when his arm flew around me and his cock impaled me, tearing right through my hymen. I bit down hard on the pillow. When the pain sensation subsided, I heard him mumble.
"I've missed you Christine."
Great, he thinks I'm mom. I was now struggling. I just couldn't get out from his kung fu grip he now held me in. He then started to move his hips slowly into me. I moaned. Then he pulled back.
He thrust again.
"Oh Christine."
I moaned again. He pulled back again.
"DAD!"
He pushed forward again.
"I've missed you baby."
I moaned again, and again he pulled back.
I now pleaded, "Dad please wake up."
"Oh Christine!"
He plunged deeper into me. With that last one he came inside me and his grip loosened. I got out of bed and surveyed the scene. He was still sleeping. He rolled over and I saw his now limp pole coming through his boxers. He then gave a sleepy mumble.
"Christine, please don't leave again. It's completely my fault. I'm sorry. It should've been me." Then he snored.
My mind was in a whirlwind. I looked down and was horrified to see a mixture of our juices and my blood on the sheet. I'll have to clean that up in the morning. I threw part of another blanket over it and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. I splashed some water over my face and looked into the mirror. What just happened? How did this happen? Was I to blame? Was dad? What should I do?
I couldn't sleep. I just rolled around in bed thinking about what transpired. It was completely fault. I looked at the clock and it was a little after six. I decided to get up and head to the local pharmacy. Didn't want to show up 9 months later with a 'hey dad this is our child' scenario. I can only imagine that conversation. When I got home, I heard dad stirring around the bathroom. A sense of nervousness began to flood me. What will I say to him? Did he notice the spot on the sheet? Does he even remember? I started making breakfast, eggs and bacon. I wasn't hungry, but maybe the food will distract him.
"Good morning Amber. Wow it smells great in here. What time did you get up?"
He came up behind me and gave me a light hug. This already may have been the most he has said to me at one time in 3 years.
"Um, about six. Here's your breakfast. Do you want a beer?"
"Yeah. Wait, no. Do we have any juice?"
Juice, I thought, when do you drink juice? I opened the fridge. I knew we didn't have any, but I wanted to encourage something other than beer.
"We have milk." I said hopingly.
"That will be fine, thanks."
Did he just say thanks? I poured the milk.
"Here you go."
"Hey Amber, can we talk?"
Oh shit, I thought. "Yeah, what about?"
"Well I'm not sure where to start. I had the strangest dream last night about your mother."
"Mom?"
"Yes. Normally I dream I was in her place, or I should've been. Or I go back to you and her at the hospital, or even the funeral. But last night she came to me, almost like was forgiving me. It was like I could actually touch her. I must say it was like no dream ever before. She let me hold her like I used to, as if to say I'm still here. Don't treat yourself this way. It made sense. I don't know if I should even tell you what happened next."
"Go ahead."
"We made love. Then she was gone. I asked her not to go, I even apologized. But she left without saying anything. As if no apology needed. There was nothing to be forgiven for. I even dreamt I heard her voice, begging me to wake up. As if you needed me and I couldn't do anything because I was drunk. After she left, I just thought about the last 3 years and what a horrible father I've been. I owe you an apology. You lost one parent. You didn't deserve to lose two."
I started to cry. "Dad it was entirely my fault. I was yelling at mom when she lost control. It was entirely my fault."
He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye.
"Oh, don't you say that. Don't you ever say that."
"But if I hadn't..."
"It was just an accident." He hugged me tightly. "Look, it took me 3 years and one odd dream to have this revelation. I guess I was living in my own world to realize your feelings. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. My god, sweetie, don't ever feel that way. I'll tell you what; I won't feel that way if you don't, okay?"
"I don't know."
"Well, how about not feeling that way right now. I know you had a birthday yesterday and today we're going to celebrate it. I have three birthdays to make up for and I'm going to start now. Let me get dressed. I'll be right back."
Within 5 minutes he came back wearing one of his old suits. Black slacks, matching jacket, and a white shirt with the top two buttons undone.
We started at the art museum. My dad rented a wheel chair and we went around.
"I've never been here before dad."
"Your mom and I came here all the time before you were born. Then we got really into our careers. Did you know we almost got a divorce?"
"Really?"
"We forgot that the most important thing was the two of us. But all that changed with you. We had you and that brought us back. You were our angel that saved us."
So intent on listening to talk, I didn't realize we stopped.
"This was your mom's favorite, "Madonna and Child" by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo. Did you know you had colic? Every night your mom had to get up and hold you and I would go get the bottle. When I would give it to her, she would always refer to this painting."
After the art museum, we headed to a fancy restaurant. I never experienced such service. Everyone in tuxedos, valet parking, and even the bus boy welcomed us. The menu, wow, exhibited extravagance at its best. I couldn't pronounce half of it and nothing had a price. I've never been somewhere where the menu didn't have prices! My dad ordered for both of us.
"I know you'll like it." He said reassuringly.
We talked a great deal during dinner. What paintings I liked, some he liked, how school was going, anything and everything to catch us up on the past 3 years. And he was right; the food I received was top notch, absolutely fantastic, although he still wouldn't tell me what it was. After dinner, he took me to an opera, a performance of Mozart's "The Magic Flute". I was leery; I mean the opera is for old people right? It truly was magical. It let out about 10:30 and we headed home.
Dad asked, "Hey, how about renting a movie and getting some popcorn?"
"Sounds great."
We stopped and he let me pick one of my favorites, The Ugly Truth. When we got home, I got into my pajamas and got the movie ready. Dad got the popcorn. We sat on the couch and the movie began to play.
My eyes started fluttering open as the sunlight peering through the blinds was hitting me. I was still on the couch, my head lying on my dad's chest while the rest of my body curled up next to him. He was still in his suit, his head just lying back on the couch with his arm holding me lightly. As phenomenal as last night was, right now is the perfect ending. I looked up and noticed dad was starting to wake. He looked around then down at me. He smiled, just realizing we were still on the couch.
